Alias
by Kestralheart
Summary: With the days the pain faded into discomfort, and then, eventually, to memory. That was nine years ago... But when Yang comes to Beacon, seeking a chance to redeem herself to Cinder, she starts a war with her own heart. She could stop it easily, at any time. She just has to choose who she loves more. - slow!burn Yang/Blake AU, Yang is kidnapped by Cinder at a young age.
1. Chapter 1

**All right, I apologize for taking down the original version of this story, but I truly felt like I had done it wrong. I felt everything moved way too slowly, and there were some things that were unnecessary to the progression of the story.**

 **Therefore I took it down... and reposted it. It was already a new story so I didn't feel bad about deleting it and posting the new version, but for those that had followed or favorited the story, my apologies.**

 **I don't want to waste any more of you guys' time, so let's get right into it. Please read and review if you have the time; even something short is always motivating. And comment about whether you think that it was a good change to trim it down!**

 **Here we go...**

 **Oh, wait, before I forget, here is a warning:**

 **This chapter may contain moderate child abuse, so if you're against that I recommend clicking away. I kept the story T though because the rest of the story will be pretty clean, with moderate violence and language.**

 **Now, here we go...**

* * *

When she awoke, the world was a blur of dull colors.

Her surroundings came slowly into focus. Several long moments passed; her eyes blinked, her breathing deepened, her lips parted and closed. It was only when the girl stretched the rest of her body - or attempted to - that she snapped fully into alertness.

The girl wished she hadn't, because when her vision cleared, she was greeted by the dark cell that had become her home.

It was a dingy room, with the smell of mold - undoubtedly growing in every crack and groove - clogging her senses. She recognized the scent from the abandoned houses she'd used to play in, and it was nauseating.

Still, even with the decay, most would probably see it as normal. A basement. Old, maybe, and in need of repairs, but nothing that couldn't be fixed.

It wasn't anything like that, though. Not for her.

The walls looked orange-red in color, like those of her bedroom. She knew they couldn't really be so vibrant, of course; that was the dyed fabric wrapped around her eyes. The cloth clung stickily to her skin, plastering across the upper half of her face. It felt very... gross, and wet, but it was the dampness of it that thinned the light cotton-like material, allowing her to see, so she couldn't complain - even if it was only vague shapes.

It should have made her more afraid, she thought. The blindfold. She was already vulnerable, sore and bare and chained to the wall - and to not even be able to really see?

Maybe it made her crazy, but to be honest... she preferred it this way. She knew that if you stared long enough and hard enough at things - like the sunset, or daffodils, or your mother's smile - you'd never forget them. And when her Daddy came to rescue her, and she was far away, the girl didn't want to remember this room. If not for the orange, she wouldn't have a choice.

Her head hung low, propped uncomfortably against her shoulder. Flickers of pain ignited across her body like tiny sparks when she shifted, even ever so slightly, lingering as a deep, resounding ache. No movement was painless; no position comfortable. She tried to ease the discomfort but her attempts resulted in little except to exhaust herself.

When the girl finally looked up, she winced. The brightness was blinding. It was instinct to try and shield her eyes, but the motion only sent spasms of agony down her thin arms. Her lids fluttered shut.

There was a crack in the roof of her chamber. It was small and too far away to be of real use, but it served to remind her of the days that passed. And whether it was morning or night - the girl drifted in and out of consciousness indeterminately, as if in the midst of fever, for periods she couldn't be certain of. It was impossible to tell how long she'd been here. A week? A month?

She knew it was day, now, at least.

Almost immediately at the thought, the girl tensed. It was always daytime, when _she_ visited.

The girl strained her ears in the deafening silence, and faintly... in the distance... she heard something. Footsteps. They were far away, but she could sense their approach, a steady _clack-clack_ that grew ever louder, moment by moment.

Tears welled in her eyes, tightening at her throat, but she quashed them. Firmly. _You don't cry. You don't. You'll never stop..._

Shackles were tied around her wrists and fetters around her ankles, chaining her to the hard, unyielding cement behind her and below her. The wall was freezing and rough against her bare back; the floor slick and chilling to her limbs; the restraints icy and smooth across her body. It was cold - always so, so cold - but suddenly her blood was pounding so fiercely through her veins she could hardly feel it.

The clicking of heels drew closer.

Not now... Where was her Daddy? There wasn't much time... _He was supposed to find me by now, before... So just go away..._

Before she realized she was even moving, the girl was struggling, her limbs fighting and thrashing in one last, desperate resistance. The cuffs bit viciously into her skin, gnawing at her flesh but she hardly noticed them.

It should've been painful, she knew. Paralyzing. Even to her - the wild girl, as her uncle used to call her, who swung from trees and buildings and threw herself into dares like a little force of nature. She'd had a broken arm; swollen ankles. Cuts and bruises of all shapes and sizes, certainly more than other children.

Most would cry, but she didn't. Her Dad said that made her strong, like her mother.

Cuts and bruises. Twisted ankles. She had them all, now, she was sure - but could she even feel them? The agony of the broken arm she remembered seemed fleeting and hazy in her mind - the feeling of her father's arms around her, numbing it all, far away and frozen in time.

 _You're stronger than anything, my Little Dragon,_ her father had whispered to her, what felt like a lifetime ago, _if you only put your mind to it._

But her father was wrong, she thought, because no matter how hard she pulled, how recklessly she threw herself forward, the chains held. They felt strong and heavy as mountains as they dragged her down, the slack coiling to pin her tightly against the filthy stone, until she had no choice but to give in.

The girl didn't cry often. She wasn't the child who broke down and dissolved into tears - she was the one who puffed up in indignant fits and lashed out at everything and everyone. Dramatically, angrily, unreasonably... And it had always worked for her before. But now, in the eternity she had laid there in this room, on the freezing, blood-stained ground... Nothing worked.

Screaming, yelling, fighting, cursing... Nothing worked.

Even when she couldn't take it anymore, and begged... Gave her captor what she thought she'd wanted - what she thought every bully wanted, in the end... It didn't work. The lady would only laugh - a mad, high-pitched cackle - and then press her blade harder, and faster, and though she couldn't see the girl could practically feel the smile on the woman's face. It pleased her captor, but not in the way she wanted it to - it didn't sate the woman so much as spur her on, making her 'sessions' longer and more agonizing.

Still, she didn't cry.

Sometimes, after she visited, the girl would wake to find sticky trails across her cheeks, eyes as sore as the welts on her sides, the burns criss-crossing her limbs - but those were different. Those were unconscious lapses, and brief, and when her tormentor left the girl shuffled into the corner and wiped them away, never to be seen again. She built herself up, block by block, like her father after nights of sobbing and drinking, and she was fine.

This time, however, when the girl felt the pressure behind her lids she didn't have the energy to force them back. She could have, if she'd tried like she'd been trying all this time, but she wondered, suddenly... What was the point?

Who was she being strong for, really? She had always been so for her sister, but now she was very much alone... Who was she being so strong for, then? The walls? Herself? _Her_?

Her tormentor - the shadowy figure of her nightmares - certainly wouldn't care. Maybe it would spur the woman on, her cries - but it was always awful, and terrifying, so how much worse could it be?

Maybe that was what her torturer really wanted. For her to break down, and give in, and so maybe everything would stop...

And so, for the first time since her mother died, she let herself cry.

It was a quiet break, with tears trickling down and whimpers soft and breathless, but it was still a break, creating a fissure of cracks in its wake. It was as if her spirit were draining out of her from those two thin rivers, but it was too late to stem them. And though it was likely pointless and would only make her more miserable, she didn't want to.

The girl wasn't sure why. Because she hurt so badly, and though she never understood it before suddenly she wanted to die, and that would break her sister's heart? Because she had been waiting and holding on with everything she had, like her father would want her to, but he never came and that broke her heart?

That was how her abductor would find her, sprawled out as if dead on the icy concrete. Blackened and bleeding; the only sign that she was still alive was the way she trembled - ever so slightly - her body shaking with small, silent sobs.

There was the creaking screech of ancient hinges; the door opened. A chill crawled up up her spine.

She saw nothing; her eyes were closed. But she didn't need to see to know what would happen next. She knew little about her captor, but in spite of her enigmaty the woman was - if nothing else - predictable.

Pain.

Her head was wrenched up by her wiry mess of hair, impossibly high and then thrown violently against the wall. She tried to squirm free, but the woman's grip only grew harsher, more unforgiving, as she held her effortlessly in place. A radiating heat grazed the side of her face and she stifled a cry as it traveled upwards, cutting her blindfold loose.

When the crusty cloth fell from her eyes, the woman released her, leaving the fragile girl to collapse hard against the stone. Her scalp felt as if it were set on fire, but the crimson licking her dirtied locks was a dark red and carving slick trails down her face.

The girl wanted to curl tightly against the corner, block everything else in the world - like her sister when the storms came - but she couldn't even do that much; the restraints were short, and denied her that freedom. Instead she could only fall limp, sobbing noiselessly, a muddy curtain of hair her only defense against her tormentor.

She braced herself for another wave of pain, but none came.

Instead she heard a purposeful clack, and the toes of slim boots came into view. She stared at them for several moments as she gasped for breath at her torturer's feet, lost in the smooth, elegant black of the heels. The floor was washed-out and stained - she filthy and bloodied - but the woman's shoes were polished and spotless.

"Do you know why you're here, sweetheart?"

When the woman spoke, her voice was calm, almost tender, as if her lips caressed each syllable as they escaped her mouth. In any other situation, the girl would have found the tone comforting, but from this woman - this woman who smiled at her screams and drew hot lines of agony down her face - it sounded mockingly sweet.

 _Such a brave, adorable face... You're a fighter, aren't you, sweetheart? Well, don't you know how to make things more fun..._

 _How long will you last, I wonder? I'm sure we're both waiting to see that same thing - isn't that right, sweetheart? Maybe it'll be today._

 _Healed again? And so quickly? Aww, you disappoint me, sweetheart._

Something in her snapped; the anger resurfaced.

"Because you're insane," she spat, though her voice came out only as a cracked whisper. _And I'm not your sweetheart._

She expected the bite of a slap in reply - the burn of a flame - but all she heard in response was a low, hearty chuckle.

"That's true, I'm sure... but not quite what I meant." The woman sounded amused, but then her voice was suddenly closer - warm breath tickling the girl's ear - and darker. "Come now... You didn't think I would do all of this because I wanted to, did you?"

 _Could have fooled me._

She didn't respond, but then, she had little time to - before she even gathered enough breath to spit a reply the girl was slammed face first against the floor, the sharp prick of nails digging into her shoulders. She gasped as familiar cool steel ran teasingly along her jugular, before sharpening at a point, tip poised over the rapid pounding of her pulse.

"Although..."

Heat engulfed her throat, and it was as if the metal were aflame when its wielder skipped down and sliced a jagged line across her collar.

She screamed.

"... I have to say, I do enjoy this a lot." The woman said it so simply, so casually, as if she were remarking that she liked winter over summer - not flicking a molten knife along the shoulders of a little girl, listening to her cry in agony.

When the blade finally paused its assault - her captor's weight lifting from her back - the girl was gasping and writhing, warm wetness spilling onto her chest and forearms. She scrambled upwards, chains clattering, feeling weak and nauseous but desperate to get as far from her tormentor as possible - and that's when she saw her.

She froze.

She had only seen the woman's silhouette before - only known her as the dark, shadowy figure that loomed over her cell, insidious and full of malice. The girl had pictured her having fangs, or horns, like she were some nightmarish hybrid of Grimm; maybe bearing a hideous visage, fitting of an old witch or demon that stole children away for her amusement. But the girl's captor was none of these things - quite the opposite, in fact.

Her abductor was hauntingly young, and beautiful. She bore yellow eyes, glittering gold in the sunlight; straight hair tied back in silver bands, black as night and endless; pale skin, pulled ghostly over sharp features. The woman - from her feminine voice as well as her figure, now - favored all-black; her glossy garment was form-fitting and reflective in the light, blinding the girl's eyes when her captor shifted.

"So, my pet - would you like to take a guess?"

The woman stood over her for a moment, ruby red lips curling into a smirk, as if allowing the girl this glimpse of her. Her head tilted to the side, golden eyes dancing over hers; it seemed she expected an answer this time, but the girl felt at a loss for words.

 _Do you know why I brought you here, sweetheart?_

No, she didn't. She didn't even know that a reason existed - could someone as insane as this woman have sane things like reasons?

Her uncle had always told her of people who snatched children away, far away and did terrible things to them. When asked why, however, he had no answer. _Some people don't have reasons, Little Dragon - not ones that you or I can understand,_ he explained, _Some people enjoy evil for the sake of evil - people more Grimm than human._

When she had nothing to say, the woman smiled. Quicker than she could react her tormentor was beside her, pinning her throat to the wall, the woman's other hand sweeping over her sides. It felt like nothing, at first; her hands were only firm, set to leave little more than superficial bruises. But she knew this game. The woman held her there for several long moments, breathing quietly, and just when the girl began to relax ever so slightly, that's when she struck.

"Hmm?" her abductor asked her as she shrieked, grin so wide it seemed her face might split in two, "What was that? I couldn't hear you."

It was as if the woman set her own hands alight - hungry flames licked the girl's sides, destroying the scabbed remains of her skin. Even when the actual fire had extinguished, the burning lingered, past the point where she no longer had the breath for screams.

"Please, oh... please..." _Daddy... Mommy... Where are you?! Please!_

"Well, since you asked so nicely, I'll give you a hint." The woman released her and then was standing over her once again, arms crossed and a finger at her own lips. Her golden eyes were considering; her stance relaxed and tone calm and steady, even as the girl writhed in agony, whimpering senseless pleas. "Why are you here? Well, you see... you're a strong little girl."

Her captor looked at her manicured nails, then back to the girl, as if she were an insignificant fly, but her next words betrayed her.

"Most would have broken days ago," the woman revealed, and glanced back to her nails - though there was a distinct lilt of approval in her voice. The girl felt herself slowly slipping away, the pain overwhelming - unconsciousness just within her reach - but her tormentor's words were piercing. "Not all auras are so... resilient. Especially young aura. But yours... Well, you're still here, aren't you?"

She gasped for breath and coughed, feeling as if she were choking. It was agonizing and her father's voice whispered in her ear, telling her to calm, to ride out the waves of searing pain but panic was thrumming in her veins, just under her skin.

"It's only to be expected, I suppose, from the daughter of a Xiao Long and a Branwen..."

 _Daddy...? Mommy...?_

"Aww, don't cry," her captor cooed; the sound was disconcerting, and only brought another wave of tears to her eyes. "This is good news for you. It means that this is almost over..."

 _What was almost over?_ And that was the million lien question, she thought, because the two words that she had vowed to never utter so long as she was in this hellhole - because they weren't true, her father would come for her - were screaming at her to turn back now, while she had the chance, before her thoughts drifted to things they shouldn't.

"No hope no hope no hope..." It was so easy, wasn't it? Breaking a promise. First, Summer, then Taiyang, and Qrow. Now her...

"Aw, what did I do wrong? I thought you would have been ecstatic." A hiss passed through clenched teeth; it was supposed to be directed towards the malicious woman, but tears cascaded down her face for the second time today, and her vision was wholly blurred.

"Does the little girl need a tissue?"

The anger that dwelled within her found itself flaring once again, resurfacing at the mocking tone of her torturer.

"Stop it!" she yelled, and for once her voice parted from her lips in more than a whisper. "My daddy... When he finds me, you'll be sorry." It was a lie, and both of them knew it.

"Will I?" her captor toyed, smiling seductively with a hand placed over her heart. _If she even has one._ she thought, but the woman's face grew serious faster than the human eye could follow, and she leaned in less than an inch from the girl's face. "Your father is weak. He fell to something as trivial as love, pah. For your sake, I hope you aren't so pathetic."

 _I am..._ she thought. She was not strong; she could fake it, she always did. She was always strong because she didn't have a choice, because there was no time, not because there was something more underneath the broken shell that was her battered body.

And this wasn't one of those times. She would let her tormentor do whatever sick things she wanted to until she rotted away, and drifted to a better place - with her mother.

That was what she wanted to do. But it wasn't what she needed to do. Not for Ruby.

"I'm strong." It was said simply, calmly, without the begging, pained undertone that was commonplace in everything else she managed to get out.

"You have potential," she corrected, "I can see now - but is it enough?"

There was no response.

"Shall we find out?"

The girl grit her teeth in preparation for pain, and this time, it was not in vain. A sharp blade that materialized out of seemingly nowhere lacerated her left cheek; she could feel the tearing of the fleshy skin under her eye, as a cut almost deep enough to slice right through to the inside of her mouth decorated her face.

She screamed.

Louder than ever before. Not like the previous times. This had a raw quality to it, the realness of a person consumed by a pain that knew no end or limit. But she knew that this was just the beginning.

"Let's see, little girl... Will you bend under the fire, or will you-" The air was thick with anticipation. "-break?"

* * *

 **Anyway, as you can see that was shorter, but I hope you guys thought it went smoother as well.**

 **Don't forget to read and review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So here's the next chapter. Quite a bit shorter this time, so I apologize for that, but I've been trying to not let the word count affect my writing and I really felt like chapter didn't fit in with anything else so I made it its own.**

 **On the plus side it hasn't been very long so a shorter chapter but faster release.**

 **Anyway, I'd rather not babble away with a long AN so here we go.**

* * *

Ruby's eyes drifted open. The smell of pine trees and wet dog assaulted her nose, but she liked it. She'd grown used to it, and it was comforting. It reminded her that she was safe in her own home - that all the dangers of the outside world were kept at bay. That nothing could hurt her.

There was one more smell, though, one even more pleasant as Ruby sniffed the air. It smelled like roses and pegasus tears. Pegasus tears sounded made up to Ruby, but the roses definitely seemed true. It was a day not too long ago, when Yang said she wanted to be a "woman", and that she was tired of being a useless little girl.

The two of them snuck into their parent's bathroom late at night, stealthily pilfering a bottle that sat in the left-lowest drawer of the vanity. They tiptoed through the room; their father was asleep, and they passed through with impunity. Once they got the bottle back to their shared room they sat in the center of Yang's bed, cuddled up and drawing warmth from each other and a thick layer of blankets - and Zwei, of course.

It was a bottle of perfume, unopened; it was their mother's, and she never was one for the girly things like painted nails or earrings or perfume. It was a wonder she had it, but maybe it was a gift. Ruby had looked at it, afterwards pointing out that it was expired, probably having sat their for years. Yang used it anyway, despite the warning, spraying the liquid liberally all over her body even as Ruby waved her hands when she tried to give her some. Yang then promptly spilled the whole bottle all over the sheets and pillows.

Those were good times, and even after countless times through the wash the aroma remained.

Ruby took another deep sniff. A mid-summer day when all the birds and the bees filled the forest and the fresh bread from the bakery downtown migrated towards their house.

But it wasn't a mid-summer day. It wasn't even summer; it was winter, with no early spring and still six weeks of cold left. Ruby smothered her face with the pillow under her head, falling back on the mattress in a spiral of familiar smells.

It was all Yang. Everything was there: the bread, the pollen, the roses, and even the made up pegasus tears. Everything distinctly Yang ought to be there, but it wasn't. Her warmth, her snoring, her comforting words and caresses when things were grim. They weren't there. And even as Ruby turned to the vacant side of the bed to see if she was just deceiving herself they weren't there. And each smell seemed to fade with each longing breath, until nothing was there anymore. Not even the smallest remnant to remember her by.

 _She'll be home soon._ Ruby reminded herself. Yang was just away on a school trip. She would come back. She had promised. Promised that she would never leave her. Not without saying goodbye.

Crack.

Something caught Ruby's attention; it was something breaking. She instantly shot up, slipping out of her bed and into her sister's bunny slippers. She tapped the ground with both feet to push her feet all the way into the the over-sized shoes, swiftly scurrying towards the door; it was instinct to go check out whatever the sound was - it could have been someone breaking in, and if that was the case then she probably shouldn't have been going down there but she did so anyway, throwing caution to the wind.

Through the door and the hallway, she rushed down the stairs, quickly like it was Christmas morning, but slowly enough between steps so she wouldn't fall on the way down.

Something stopped her as she scampered towards the front door. It was from the left; more breaking. She tentatively pressed one ear against the kitchen door - the cold hard wood tickling her cheek. Each shrill scream of glass was punctuated with a yell or shout, and it was clear the some sort of argument or fight took place. Before she could panic Ruby heard her father's voice, and then Uncle Qrow's.

 _They're... fighting?_

It only took a minute for Ruby to realize that it was Uncle Qrow on the receiving end of the altercation.

 _I've never heard Daddy so mad before._

"They've given up. They say if she's not already dead we won't find her." It was Uncle Qrow who spoke this time; his words came with a slight hesitation to them and his raspy voice was even starker than usual. The subtext to his statements was unclear to Ruby. Who's given up? Who might be dead and who won't they find? No one, she hoped. Whoever it was.

"I see..." _Daddy!_

There was no anger anymore; all of that seemed to wash away with the last dish or vase. Only calm and collected miasma surrounded his voice, but the underlying soberness did not go unnoticed. He was frowning right now, she could tell. She missed his smile so much. It had been so long since she'd seen it, but it was burned in her mind. She was saving it, until the time came when he smiled everyday. _Please let that be soon..._

Uncle Qrow did not speak a word.

"It's over..." What!? What's over? Why did adults always have to talk so cryptically? _I wish Big Sis was here..._

"No, Tai. It's not. We'll keep looking for her. We'll find her, I promise." _So it's a her... Ooh!_ Maybe it was that woman Big Sis was searching for? What was her name again?

"That's a promise you can't keep." Ruby knew that this was the point where Yang would have had enough, and say, "English to English translation, please."

"I-I" _Uncle never stutters..._

"I'm done..." Shivers spasmed across her entire body. There was something in the way he said that - or rather - the way he croaked it out with solemn purpose that meant only bad things. It was... cold, but also so heartfelt and so so utterly exhausted. _Daddy... I'm worried._

"No! We can't give up!" Ruby jumped at the sudden emphatic shout, but it wasn't enough to prompt her to rush in there and the words still flew over her head.

"Yes, we can. And we are. Don't go looking for her, Qrow." Why would her father not want to help Uncle Qrow with this? Who is this person?

"No!" her uncle exclaimed.

"Yes! It's too late. I'm too late..." The beginnings of tears - Ruby could sense them.

"No. No you're not. It's not too late, and I know I won't rest until she's at home safe with her father." Ruby felt like crying, if only because of the cracked whispers of her father - the sound of someone else in pain only fueled the tears as they started to well up around her eyes. Someone must be out there right now - scared and alone - waiting for their father to come rescue them.

Yang briefly flashed in her mind, as someone who was probably missing her father very much, but she was away on a trip. And even if something had happened to her, there was no way their father would argue to not look for her. He would go to the ends of Remnant for her if that was what it took.

"Why do you try so hard, Qrow. You know it's too late for her." It was an almost threatening tone coming from her father. To actively deny to help someone when he might have a chance seemed out of character for him. There was no way he would do something of the sort; he was a huntsman after all - the strongest, most bravest, and kind people. They would never turn down someone in need. This must be some sort of misunderstanding, or perhaps there was something more to it that Ruby missed. That had to be it.

"No..." Ruby moved the shell of her ear in between the seam of the door to hear the less than a whisper. Her boots scuffed slightly against the floor as she inched over, and she caught her breath. Neither of them heard, luckily, because they would probably be a certain level of upset if they found her listening in on a probable private conversation.

"Yes. Whoever took her probably killed her when they couldn't get her. It's over." Such confusing words. _Please stop Daddy... I don't like this._

"So, what? You're just gonna give up? Like that?" The last sentence was punctuated with a sharp snap, the sheer ferocity of the words chilling her bones.

"Yes." It's so cold.

"Don't let her be like Summer." Silver eyes widened in shock, more of the unexpectedness of it than anything - though, most everything today was unexpected. The identity of this mysterious female had never felt as crucial as in this moment - for just being mentioned in the same sentence as her mum was either taboo or necessitated. She found herself subconsciously veering towards the space in the lining to attempt to have better volume, but to no avail.

Ruby, extremely curious yet oblivious to the full conversation, if it could even be called that, slowly gripped the ice cold doorknob, inching it open even as it creaked until it was open a sliver but just enough for one eye to peer through.

"Argh!" Like a whistle it whipped through the air the moment after Ruby caught yellow. She shot to her feet at the punch - thrown sloppily and splitting air, clearly aimed at Uncle Qrow. Uncle Qrow idly tilted his head to the side, effortlessly dodging the blow and countering by grabbing her father's arm and throwing him over his shoulder.

The thud was punctuated with a grunt, Ruby wincing as her father hit the ground. It felt almost wrong, to stand by while her father and her uncle engaged in a heated argument, even when it was clear that she had no business entering or interfering.

"What? You mean like how you left Summer? All alone?" Uncle Qrow shot back. Ruby cringed. The tension could be cut with a knife. This was dangerous, too dangerous for Ruby to interrupt, but also too dangerous for her father and Uncle Qrow. Someone needed to stop them.

"I tried to save her!" Ruby could hear pounding against the padded floor, echoing through the usually quaint house.

"Then let's go." Clear, precise, and so very cold.

"No... I don't wanna have to see... anything." _See what!?_

"Fine. I'll find her myself." The air that was thick with anticipation settled, and Ruby let out a relieved sigh, relaxing against the door. She soon regretted doing so, after she leaned against the wood a bit too much and it shut closed with a click.

Footsteps approached her. Ruby anxiously stumbled as she tried to run back up the stairs and into the protection of her room, tripping over her over-sized cloak and slippers and falling to her knees. The door groaned opened to her laying there at the bottom of the staircase, and it was Uncle Qrow who stood there.

He passed right through the door frame with a purpose, not even sparing a glance at Ruby or any words - simply gulping down that poisoned liquid in his flask. She would have sworn he didn't even notice her presence if not for the shadowy orbs that glared at her in the corner of his eyes. _The normal Uncle Qrow would have said something..._

Ruby's eyes followed him as he made his way to the front door, opening it and deploying his beloved scythe as the door shut closed behind him. She simply stared at the wood for a good minute, attempt to soak in all that just happened, but she couldn't. There were too many variables, too many questions unanswered. People were angry, and frustrated, and depressed. That was all she knew.

Ruby finally turned back towards the kitchen after something of a whine drew her there. The sight was something she would take back if she could; it wasn't pretty. Her father lay on the floor, prostrate with tears flowing from his eyes, staining the rug below him.

"Daddy?"

His only response was more sobbing.

 _I've never seen Daddy cry before._


	3. Chapter 3

**I want to thank everyone who has review or faved or followed or even just viewed the story, because my motivation to write more is largely pulled from what reception I receive, and so far everything has been positive.**

 **So thanks for that guys, but as always I like to keep the ANs as short as possible, so let's get right into it.**

* * *

It had been several weeks, at least, since it ended. When Yang first awoke she was in a different room entirely. It was small and minimally furnished: a table, a cot, a toilet so she could relieve herself. The walls weren't washed-out grey or orange either, they were just white. In a way it scared her more. It was a blank canvas, just waiting to be splattered with blood or worse.

Food and water piled high on a table in one corner and her sleeping area in the other. They were simple things - or pleasures, they could be called - like bread and fruit, and the bed was bare and firm, but to Yang it was like heaven. She was shackle-less as well, no hard cement - though her room was windowless and the door was locked. Not to mention she was in agonizing pain, but with the days the pain faded into discomfort, and then, eventually, to memory.

The blonde suspected that some sort of drug or sedative laced the food, too. It wasn't difficult to notice the pattern - whenever she ate she would fall into deep sleep, and when she awoke everything would be replenished. After what she had been through, however, she couldn't find it in her to complain. If she didn't have to see her captor ever again - even to feed her - that was fine by her.

She knew it wouldn't last forever, though.

It was on the morning of the fourth week the girl had been in her new accommodations that she was proven right. One moment she was asleep, and in the next wide awake, greeted by the star of her nightmares.

The woman sat primly on the edge of her mattress.

Yang instantly scrambled back, as if to instinctively defend herself, but only served to fall off the bed. She landed in a graceless heap, sheets tangled about her limbs as she lay at the feet of the monster who had a knife to her throat not a month before. Blood pounded through her veins furiously.

"We'll have much to work on, I see." the woman noted, jotting something down on the clipboard that she carried with her arm. It was odd, but also frightening, the way her whole demeanor seemed to change since their last meeting. Unless she had forgotten, which she was sure she hadn't, the woman who haunted her every waking moment was so much more cheerful... maybe? Cheerful was the wrong word; she was more like "less scary".

Even her clothes seemed to have lightened up. They still accented her figure in a way that was distinctively her, but she no longer favored all black. Yellow was on the menu today, it seemed, and so was pink and red and a myriad of other vibrant colors. Her hair was free flowing resting on her shoulder, and she sported a colorful blouse and skirt and heels that made her look like an unassuming mother or something.

It was scary, actually. At least the thought of someone so innocent on the outside being so malicious on the inside. If Yang wasn't scooped up that day in the forest by a horn donning devil then she would have been lured in by this woman offering ice cream or something.

And her father had once warned her of strangers offering sweets. When she asked why, her father had replied that they would take her away, far away where she would never be seen again, and do horrible things to her. Her father never warned her that they could look like this...

"Let us get the pleasantries out of the way so we can get down to business, hmm?" Her abductor tilted her head at her, and even though she looked so utterly harmless, the girl still felt fear envelop her body. She nodded and reconfigured on the farthest side of the bed from the woman, but didn't say a word. "Great. My name is Cinder, and I am to be your new... teacher, shall we say."

 _What?_ "T-teacher?" she suddenly blurted out.

"That's right. I'll be taking such a _graceful_ student like _yourself_ under my wing. For the time being, at least." Her attitude was still relatively peppy and non-life threatening, but her sarcasm on "graceful" and her emphasis on "yourself" gave off the impression of someone losing their patience.

"Time being?" the frightened girl questioned, but then realized that it might not be prudent to just speak without thinking. "I - I mean-" Which made everything so much better.

"Don't be afraid to ask questions, sweetheart. It's hard to say if I'll answer them or not..." Well, at least she did fry her on the spot! That had to count for something, right? As the girl opened her mouth to reiterate her question she was beaten to the punch. "Or just snap and burn you alive, but that's life - you'll never know if you never ask, hmm? So go ahead."

Somehow that wasn't very reassuring to the newly granted student, but, on the other hand, it was very reassuring to the fact that this woman was deadly - no matter how she dressed. She would have stayed silent, but a glare that was friendly in retrospect had her repeating her question.

"Time... being?" she whispered warily.

"If you do well then I won't set you aflame. If you fail... well, you won't last too long." It wasn't at all surprising either. Threats, that was. For some reason, it seemed to be the way Cinder spoke fluently, with threats and examples of punishment intertwined with each word. "But I'm sure you'll do fine. Go on, ask another question."

Yang thought long and hard for one, but it wasn't as easy as it would seem. Not because she couldn't think of one - she could think of a million questions - but because there were so many, and far fewer that didn't carry the risk of death with them. She couldn't find any that didn't, however, and so decided on one that was quite important, but wasn't a surefire way to get fried to a crisp. "W-why am I here?"

"You haven't figured it out already?" Cinder responded immediately, stumping the girl. Was she supposed to? She didn't even really think that someone so clearly psychotic would have rationality, but, she just needed to check. If there was a reason, she just prayed it didn't have anything to do with Ruby. "And I've given you plenty of time, too... Must I explain it to you in agonizing detail?"

A squeak escaped her as an arc of flame traveled towards her. She instinctively ducked. _Wrong question, then._

"That's what I want to see," she praised. "Now, as for your question... You are here because I wanted you to be. And because I'm so generous - and you've passed my little test, the first of them - I've decided to teach you all the things you need to know. Think of me as a mother - you don't have one of those, now do you?"

"Don't talk -"

"I'll say whatever I need." Cinder cut her off, and the Yang didn't continue. _They're just words, they can't hurt you._ she whispered in her mind. Which was plenty to comfort her in that area, because she knew that there were an uncountable number of ways for her to hurt her more in others.

And that led her to the one question she knew not the answer to, nor if Cinder would snap at her and burn her alive. It had been on the tip of her tongue for all of today and it had been on her mind for the past four weeks, and yet saying it aloud was harder than telling Ruby cookies went extinct.

But in the face of this madwoman named Cinder? The bane of her existence. Well, it was easy. It was easy to look the devil in the eye when you had nothing left to lose, and so the girl did. And while she did she asked,

"Why am I still alive?"

* * *

With each unnerving step, Yang grew more and more on edge.

Could she be blamed? This was the first time she'd seen daylight of this magnitude in more than a moon's time, the first time she'd even set foot outside of a room more than a couple hundred square feet.

If only that was all that was new, then the blonde might have been more merciful to her lower lip.

Alas, that was just not the case, for the psycho woman to her right a few paces ahead was just that - merely a few paces ahead. Too close, too quiet.

Thoughts of escaping flirted with her mind more than once; it was an unenclosed area, no fences or barbed wire as far as the eye could see. She could, hypothetically, make a break for it, weaving her way through the trees and staying low to the ground in an effort to lose the mysterious woman Cinder, who was about a second and a half apart from her.

Should she try? Would she even a snowball's chance in hell of freedom if she did? Or would Cinder just drag her back by the scruff furious and in a lot less forgiving mood? Was it worth that risk? _Well, what is there left to lose?_ Her life, possibly. But did that matter at this point? Perhaps it did.

Though she had not planned to mull it over for any longer, she couldn't even if she changed her mind, for faster than Yang's eyes could keep up was a whirling object through the air, whistling and blurring. Pure instinct managed to save her face from being hit and that was all, and for a short few seconds she struggled to juggle the object between her hands before finally securing it between her calloused fingers.

Round, cool, and slightly furry? A peach, so it was, a delicate thing and clearly plentiful throughout the landscape, though previously Yang had failed to notice them, trapped in her own little world.

"Take a bite; it's sweet." the murderous woman just a few steps away enjoined.

Intent on simply heeding the simple order - or perhaps it was just a suggestion, the blonde didn't know - Yang squeezed the fruit skeptically, rubbing her thumb and index finger over its surface with one hand, poking it with the other.

Well, it seemed fine. So, she decided, why not?

A fine decision on her part, she praised, the taste was as magnificent as ever - more so, she'd go so far, considering it was more than just stale bread, and not as gag-inducing as rotting fruit - and she didn't keel over a second later so that was a plus.

Before she even knew it she'd finished the thing, coming dangerously close to swallowing the pit but then coughing it up and tossing it to the to the dirt, and it wasn't even moments later that some bugs started to crawl all over it.

Yang remained in after-ecstasy for as long as she dared, but that was unfortunately not very long at all, snapping out of her own daze to the voice of the villainous woman sauntering close by,

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The words were clear as it was day and yet they were confusing to the young girl. It was beautiful. There were cherry blossoms stuffed all around, some so close that they appeared fused together. Green, pink, a myriad of fruits and green. And what were all those things?

They were life, is what they were. Cinder and this beautiful and picturesque scene just didn't go together. True to her name, she was, cruel and destructive and blazing to the touch. Intense in everything she did and had done, Yang could only picture one thing when it came to this natural yet unnatural setting and Cinder. Instant forest fire.

Yang's worn out boots crunched underneath a feeble layer of gravel, the dirt path encased by a mirage of wonderful things. The plants, the bright blue sky, without a remnant of a cloud sneaking its way in there, and the colors? Simply the exact opposite of anything Yang could remember experiencing in the longest time.

Oh, and the smell. It was- it was... Horrible. Yang hated everything it reminded her of... Well, she loved what it spurred her mind to, but that was just it. Simply dreams and memories waiting to be burned and swept under the rug like all the rest.

"Oh, Ruby..." the longing girl whined softly, but passionately.

"Hmm? Did you say something, darling?" It was that voice again wasn't it? The concerned sounding one, the curious one, or was that the torturous, the one that the little girl could only dread? Oh wait, they were all the same...

"Ah, no. I didn't." she lied, unashamedly.

"No matter; we're here."

 _Here?_ Where was here? It was a circular shaped clearing that had been manually cleared, at least Yang was fairly sure, and not by bulldozers if the blackened ground surrounding the treeline was a testament to anything. It wasn't until Yang fanned her head left to right, panning out to take in what initially appeared to be a relaxing nap spot, that she saw it.

It was snarling and salivating - and Yang could only guess that was because of her - pulling ferociously as the taught chain looked ready to crumble and the tree it was tied to dared to uproot itself. Wait, was it leaning? The terrifying creature was less than a meter away, but it was muzzled. It resembled that rabid dog she saw in that horror movie that one night, foaming at the mouth and bearing its teeth with solely ill intentions, but she knew it was no dog, and that this was no movie. This was reality, and that was a real, breathing Grimm.

"W-what is that thing!?" she frantically blurted anyway.

As Yang was taken aback, Cinder confidently strode forward. Yang didn't follow, naturally, but as soon as the Grimm sensed Cinder's approach it mellowed. Instantly, it stopped its gnarling and sat, exhibiting its obedience as well as if it were Zwei or something. Cinder calmly set one hand on the beast's head, lightly patting it with impunity.

"This is Mannie. He'll be assisting us in our lesson today."

 _It has a name!?_ was the first thing that popped in Yang's mind, though perhaps it should have been the insinuation that a god forsaken Grimm was going to "help" in their training. And though she was but a young child, she wasn't nearly daft enough to believe that a Grimm was just going to paper mache with them. It was going to do something that Yang really, really, _really_ didn't want to think about right now.

"No, no, no." Yang backed up, nervously.

"What? I'm sure you'll do fine." the woman tried to assure her.

"Please, I- I- can't fight, sp- train - whatever! Against a Grimm!"

"Sure you can."

"Please, no... I'll die!" The girl was clearly not getting through, but if she didn't keep trying then there was no point to anything.

"You will if you don't fight back."

"With what!? I don't have a- a weapon!" A knife flew towards her seemingly from thin air; it twirled with a flourish in the wind, and Yang honestly had no clue why she reached out to try and catch it. Instincts or whatever, she figured, but with a miracle she actually managed to, though awkwardly, and proceeded to clutch it close to her chest in a tight cross grip as she searched in a bag of magic tricks for another vain excuse.

"I don't have any training!" was what she decided on and voiced, but Cinder simply shot her a look of disbelief.

"You father trained you, did he not?"

He did, a smidgen. He taught her how to defend herself from some untrained mugger or someone.. Self-defense hand to hand combat, knives a bit. He taught her how to throw one straight at the very least. To go where she aimed. But she'd only ever practiced versus a block of foam or a pillow or something. Most certainly not a fast moving target that wanted to kill her more than she did it, and she wasn't sure she could stop it from doing so even if she tried.

It was a long shot - and a lie - but Yang tried anyway, in the one-in-a-million chance that Cinder spared her. "Never."

"Hmm, I see. I suppose it was his choice, and loss. You are such a beautiful specimen; so raw but so much potential." Cinder tilted her head at a slant, eyelashes fluttering and lips pursed into a extremely misleading face. "I am blessed to be able to witness this first test of aptitude."

Yang gulped, and didn't even bother to think that this was only the "first" of many test or whatever. What she did spare to understand was that there was no getting out of this inhumane practice; she could resist in all she wanted, but if there was one thing that Yang had learned after everything she'd been through because of Cinder, it was that her captor was not one to change her mind, or be influenced by anything.

All that meant was that Yang had to be ready to die, and she wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"All right." The blonde gritted out, still an iota of reluctance mixed in there though.

"I'm sorry; all right for what?" the woman questioned.

"Go ahead. I'll fight you're stupid Grimm."

"Wow... that didn't take much persuasion now did it? If you insist, though. Are you sure you want to do this?"

 _Like a have a choice!_ she thought, whilst scoffing out loud.

As if having read her own mind, Cinder added on, "No, really. You don't have to do this if you would prefer not."

"I don't?" was the first thing her lips could spell, expressing her confusion with an underlying sense of skepticism.

"No, of course not! Just say the word and we'll call the whole thing off and go home right now." Yang knew there was a catch.

She didn't respond.

"Well then, lets get this show on the road."

"Wait, I don't want to do this." Weirdly enough those words came straight from Yang's mouth, as much as she didn't believe it, but as their meaning caught up to her brain she realized that what she said was true.

"Such a fickle little girl. But, if that's what you want then, all right. On your first day too. I can only imagine how Ruby will fare..."

"What!?"

"I just mean there's always your sister if we don't work out." the malicious woman said so blase, like it wasn't a big deal. But it was, and they both knew that.

"No, that's not- I-" she tried to protest, though even if the devilish woman didn't cut her off she still wouldn't have gotten out more than stuttered words and frenetic gestures.

"Did you know that I didn't want you?" Yang was still angry, though more desperate, but she could only pray that this wasn't going where she knew it would. "I wanted your sister, but, well, when it came down to it, I guess they cared about her more."

"They guarded her like Mannie does his elk antler." The crazy person still stood a distance apart, and she accented what she said with a pat to said Grimm's bony skull. "But you? Well, you were left alone when it was all said and done. I just decided to swoop you up as a unfortunate consolation prize." Yang's heart broke in two then. Was that true? Yang was allowed to be captured? That Uncle Qrow and Father specifically protected Ruby, but not her?

"They don't care about you. Your father wasn't there when I found you. Your Uncle wasn't either. They were with her."

Her mind whispered in her ear. Yang cared for nothing more than her baby sister... she would always be her baby sister, and protecting her and caring for her was the least she could do for her.

"I have to say though, you have impressed more than my highest expectations. You've done well so far."

If- if it had to go one way or the other, Yang or Ruby, if Yang had to decide which one she would rather live with, then her father did the right thing. Uncle Qrow did the right thing. Ruby was more important than her. That was true. Yang knew that. She could accept that. Why then, could she not stop crying!?

"Hahaha, you're such a silly little girl... Wipe away your tears. They will only prove cumbersome against Mannie."

"I'm not going to fight a stupid Grimm!" Tears continued to cascade down her face, and they showed no signs of holding back. Yang had cried more in the past month than she had her whole life. She hated herself for that; if she couldn't be strong for herself, then how was she supposed to be strong for Ruby?

"That's fine... Just go lay down for awhile. Rest up. I'll be back in a bit; just have to run an errand, is all."

"Fine! I- I..." Short hyperventilated breaths poured out in droves as Yang continued to weep into the rubber grip. She forced in a single deep breath, letting it out slowly to calm herself, but with each lengthier breath tears only seemed to find a new spark to set it off again. "I'll do it... I'll do whatever you want, ju- just don't bring Ruby into this... Please..."

"That's a good girl..."

Yang threw the tears out of the arena, taking a minute to steady herself on the ground, one foot planted in the ground and one out in front. The knife was gripped tightly in her right hand - too tight even, as it blistered in her trembling body. White was swallowed within the dark miasma emanating from the beast, until the only part of it visible were its two piercing orbs. She stared into the endless eyes of the Grimm, red bursting from its skull - they were hungry. There was no life to them, no conviction or care or feeling of emotion at all. They said one thing, and one thing only.

Kill.

To what extent should Yang accept this term? She was lost.

Bloodthirsty, it salivated, but it didn't tug or yank against the chains. It just sat obediently by Cinder, awaiting her command to prey upon a little girl. Cinder removed its muzzle.

This was happening. It was too late to turn back now. It wasn't just her life at stake here.

Were it, Yang might have gone down without a fight. She might have dropped the knife intentionally or not, and there would be nothing that could stop a flesh-eating Grimm but Cinder's own mercy.

And yet against everything Yang nailed into herself she still resisted one last time. "I can't do this."

"Of course you can, and you will. Because you don't have a choice." _Not a choice worth considering._

Yang steeled herself as much as she knew how, the lone knife held ruggedly in her right hand, eyes locked in a fierce determination.

"Earlier, you had asked why you were still alive. Well, I'll show you. This-" A sword materialized in Cinder's hand, "this is why you're here. To prove your worth to me. Don't let me down, all right?"

And in one clean motion, the chain was cut, and the Grimm was loose.

Her eyes shut closed as a pitch black blur flashed before her. Yang jumped wildly to the side as it stampeded towards her; the knife was still there clenched in her right palm, and her left hand was somewhere by her side. The monster turned around towards her but it didn't lunge, instead eyeing her intently.

Her eyes scanned the arena hastily; up, down, left, right, but the Grimm was already on her before anything came to mind. Instincts threw her aside, but she struck the ground awkwardly as she roared from the bottom of her abdomen.

It was both of fear and adrenaline, but it was of no importance as it turned to a cry of pain. It was little in comparison, just a scratch on her arm; instantly, she recovered and stood opposite of the Grimm, this time more prepared for another assault.

She could try and do this a few more times; she wasn't tired or injured but that didn't mean that she wouldn't be soon. Stamina was a limited resource, as was will, and both could take a drastic fall at any given moment.

It put her on a clock, because her opponent was not likely to become fatigued and only she would be put at a disadvantage the longer she waited to make her move.

So she didn't.

A plan formulated in her mind - more of a whim really - and so she narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. The Grimm charged and accelerated towards her, growls of death pouring from its snout.

Yang's left foot took a large step forward, the knife still equipped in her right hand, left balled into a fist and sweat dripping from her forehead.

She didn't underestimate her enemy, but nor did she overestimate; even after two times it should still do the same thing. Grimm were mindless, her father had once told her, and he never lied to her... Except once.

But Yang dispelled those thoughts; doubt was in the past, as was weakness.

It was even faster than Yang had anticipated. It slid towards her and swung its claws horizontally. Yang sidestepped and kept her body down but still barely managed to dodge the blow. It seemed to cut off a few locks from her hair as well, she deducted after a twinge of pain. Her knife hit home, but only managed to bounce off the sporadic armor of the Grimm.

It wasn't enough to dishearten Yang though, and it was clear that she would be overwhelmed by force if she stopped there. With such a thought in mind, she kept her center of gravity low and moved beside the snarling monster, attempting to strike at the exposed flank of the abdomen.

It was for naught as the monster lunged immediately - its breath fell upon the blonde, scentless, but it made her gag regardless - and Yang just narrowly avoided the jaws that were stained with blood, no doubt from other poor, helpless victims.

She wouldn't be one of them.

If one's resolve was strong enough then anything was possible - hers was - and there was no nobler a cause than hers - definitely not this abomination's afternoon lunch. This beast would fall to Yang's necessity.

She held those beliefs close as she brought the knife up to her mouth, biting hard down on the blunt end of the blade. She kept her jaw shut as tightly as possible, even as it nicked her lip, so the weight of the hilt wouldn't pull the whole thing out. Afterwards, it occurred to her that she should have done it by the handle, but it was too late to rearrange now.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she pushed her legs harder than she had ever done before, leaping into the air straight towards the exposed back of the Grimm. In a miracle she mounted its back without a hitch, all ten nails digging deeply into the flesh and fur of the Grimm as she held on for dear life.

It rocked and bucked but it could not shake the girl off. With one hand she took the blade from her mouth, and then as the beast slowed down she gripped the blade with both hands and thrust it as hard as she could downwards.

It struck true as the tearing of flesh assailed her ears. Right between the two soulless crimson eyes blood oozed out of the wound, and Yang immediately shut her eyes. Although it wasn't human, or even living really, it was too much for her to look at.

Nevertheless, _I won!,_ was the first thing that popped into her mind.

Yang soon - but perhaps too late - realized that was false. In pain the Grimm bucked her off, as she wasn't holding on with either hand anymore. She hit the ground unfavorably, painfully, a stinging pain rising through her. The uneven earth of rock and sandstone scraped across her, a thin layer of blood coating her bare left shoulder.

The wound, however superficial it was, roused Yang to a realization of the meaningless state of her retaliation. There was so minuscule amounts of pain that it could barely even be considered a flesh wound, and yet, the growing awareness of one thing overtook her head.

If the keeper of this Grimm, the one called Cinder, was as horrible and cruel as she seemed, as relentless and unmerciful as she dawned, what would prevent her from lying about Ruby? What would stop her from ransacking Patch the second Yang buckled under the force, or doing so even if Yang didn't? There was nothing that could convince Cinder to yield except her own amnesty.

Yang staggered to her feet dizzily. The apparition of evil and malice and deformity lingered near, thrashing wildly about. Blood splattered across its face, and perhaps that was blocking its vision, as it was clawing and lunging blindly.

In the moment as Yang gathered herself it recovered, explosively charging towards the fragile girl. She didn't move, not because she froze from the trepidation or anxiety but because it didn't matter. She glanced to her left, an austere and frigid mien adorning the tormentor of both her real world and her dream world.

Yang looked back into the pronounced glaring red orbs of the atrocity, blood still gushing from the wound. It was rapidly closing the distance between the two of them, and Yang gritted her teeth until the moment where she would be released from this world.

"Remember what happens if you fail, Yang."

 _I remember. And I accept it._

It was in that moment, as the Grimm threatened to clash with her, as the words of the woman who had been silent this whole time drifted from her consciousness, as she closed her eyes for her impending sacrifice, that Yang was entrapped by an interrupted white flash.

There were vague shadows in the bottom of her field of vision that she could just barely make out. It was her, and Ruby. As the image cleared up more, Yang absorbed it.

Under the fiery red sunset, Yang was walking down a path between the wheat fields. The one holding her right hand was the young girl that was her sister. Instantly, the picturesque scene triggered those lost memories in Yang. It was the day after their mother didn't return home; their father was drunk in the living room, Uncle Qrow was probably out at some bar, but Yang spent that entire night with Ruby. They slept in some hay in a nearby barn, holding each other close to stay warm. They ate a homemade meal that Yang had packed them, but it tasted so bad that the two of them laughed about it for hours.

The material things... those were what Cinder could take from her. But she couldn't steal her memories or dignity, Yang could only do that to herself.

And that was what she was doing wasn't she? Robbing herself from memories upon memories and the chance to make more. She couldn't experience the joy of life if she fell here. All she needed was another chance, but she would never get that in the stomach of some Grimm.

Having that thought, red eyes shot open; a blur of black lunged at Yang, less than a yard away. Instantly, Yang ducked to the side as it skid against the ground, and the knife in her right hand that she had forgotten had even existed suddenly began slashing in an arc.

It was impossible to tell what happened next. The full length of the dagger was soaked with blood in her hand and as she looked back towards the downed Grimm she finally realized what she had just done. It was so inconceivable that Yang almost didn't believe that was actually her. The front right leg of the Grimm had been cleanly severed from the rest of the limb, and the beast was screeching in pain.

 _I won!_

As she made that thought, she blinked. In Yang's mind, there wouldn't have been much of an opening. Yang would still be recovering after a swing, and the enemy, having been mortally wounded, would be unable to fight any longer.

That was what would have happened if Yang was fighting anything that she would have hesitated waving a knife against. Something living, something with a soul that could feel the same kind of pain as she.

But Yang didn't hesitate. She didn't hesitate because a Grimm wasn't really alive, because it didn't have a soul. And it didn't feel pain.

Yang foolishly forgot about that.

The Grimm with its leg chopped off was different from something with living flesh, as it did not stop for even a moment. Its flashing crimson eyes didn't show any particles of fear nor overwhelming hatred - just emptiness. The rich red blood flowed out from the wound as a scalding roar-

"Gauuaaaa!"

And too quickly slashed with its claws.

Yang couldn't dodge the incoming horizontal blow in time. The tips of its hooked talons rent a long gash across from her left shoulder to her abdomen, and the pressure alone sent her flying back at lightning speed.

She bashed against a tree and the recoil threw her to the ground. She groaned as she lay prostrate, struggling to get back up but too exhausted.

 _No... I guess I wasn't meant to... anymore..._

It was too late... Yang kept thinking that she had to stand up, to stand up and fight, but her body just couldn't move. The pain was unreal. Or, rather, it was real. Her scream; it had a raw quality to it, the realness of a person consumed by pain that knew no end or limit.

But it wasn't painful because of the long tears of her garment or that it was soaked with magenta, but because of what it was. It was, above all else, where Yang's dreams were shattered. Right when she thought she had won, they were stripped away from her, and that killed her. The memories of Ruby, of her family... They would all be gone soon.

And Yang? Would memories of Yang sustain? Cinder might remember her, but would Ruby, her father, Uncle Qrow, the baker in downtown Patch, that schoolboy who she had a crush on? Would they remember her?

The answer was yes. Yes they would remember. But not as the wild girl who got into trouble on weekends or the sunny little dragon that never stopped smiling, no matter how down thing got. They would remember her as the "poor little girl who was abducted". It wasn't like Yang had some legendary legacy to be printed in every history book for the rest of time, but she just wanted to remembered by someone more than Cinder, and perhaps that was selfish.

Yang's red eyes fell shut. As the pitch black darkness flashed within her lids Ruby appeared before her, one hand outstretched towards her. A sorrow and concerned look covered her face and she said,

 _"Are you okay?"_

Yang wanted to say 'it's just a scratch', but her stiff tongue and her lips formed the words but nothing escaped.

 _"Don't leave me."_

At those words ringing in her head, she blinked her eyes open and looked up. The Grimm lurked nearer and nearer at every fraction of a second, limping without one leg and probably intending to enact revenge for that sleight.

 _I'm sorry Ruby..._

The light but pounding footsteps stopped in front of her. The air was rumbling, and she felt the large presence just above her. Yang's eyes drifted closed and hope waned. However, after a long while, the blade of the guillotine never dropped. That was when something surprising happened.

"That's enough."


	4. Chapter 4

**A bit of a longer chapter this time, just creeping up on 7k, but as I've mentioned before I've been trying not to worry myself over making the word counts for each chapter match, rather just going with what fits best together as a chapter.**

 **Well, here _is_ the chapter. I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to read and review!**

* * *

Yang walked alongside the woman she still felt uncomfortable calling - Cinder. It was a slow one, a saunter that was relaxing and easy in every manner. There shouldn't have been any reason for Yang to feel nervous, anxious, or any type of emotion except relieved. Yet somehow, she found a way.

It had been a grueling year. Each day was the same routine. Get up extremely early was always the first task of the day, which was always harder than it sounded.

After a week or so, Yang got used to it; eat a lot, sleep the entire four hours, and not stay up because you had a nightmare and you're worried that a nearby satanic, unstable, and all too willing witch will slit your throat in your sleep like she did that one time after you spilled her tea.

Before even a glimmer of light by the sun's own rays was visible, Yang was eating a so called hearty meal - various types of meat that Yang usually procured herself - and through gagging coughs in her throat she would force through it because she needed the strength.

Training began then, and whether that was a direct spar against Cinder (though it was always more like a beat-down) or exercises to build up muscle and technique, exhaustion was palpable. That all continued until track of time was no more, with itsy bitsy intervals of something vaguely resembling a break.

Though yesterday was special. There was no mandatory training, no sit ups or push ups, no pain, no aching feet and sore ribs, just rest. Cinder must have sneaked her some sleeping pills the previous night, and Yang slept through till sometime in the afternoon, frantically waking up and freaking because the sun was already up. Cinder assured her and insisted she just rest up and eat. It was so bizarre that Yang even argued to let her train at one point, but then she just fell back and spent the rest of the day at ease.

Today was also unorthodox. Like the day before, Yang woke up late again, sat and had a meal; at a real table and with Cinder too! And then by the time dusk had just set, Cinder pulled her up and told her to prepare. Prepare for what she was unclear, and it was without warning.

A loud and awkward motorcycle ride later, and here Yang was strolling underneath the bright night sky, the pitch black enigma swirled with a white-grey disc in a cloudless sea of stars; streams of moonlight sank into the desert sand bleeding silver.

The desert was dark but it was also light; Yang could only hear the tiny insects and creatures that scurried around as Cinder and her stepped nearer. And yet, for how dark and senseless her surroundings seemed, every time she would look up she would be greeted by the celestial body, swinging low in the heavens this very night, as full as it could be on one half, even as the remnants of the rest floated dislodged like a child lost in the woods on the other side. She cursed herself for that analogy.

The befuddled girl had briefly thought about what Cinder was up to, taking her way out into the middle of the desert. Unfortunately, it was more than difficult to process anything while she was going eighty miles an hour and couldn't even hear herself scream, and silently walking next to evil incarnate was even more unsettling. But when she did have the time she considered that she was doing all this to kill Yang where no one would hear, but that was ridiculous. Cinder wouldn't have gone through all the trouble of training her and caring for her if her life was just going to end this way.

Some overnight camping trip to build character or something was a sound possibility. Forage for insects, something to start a fire; live off the land. There was something off though. Why was whatever this trip was still a secret and Cinder's alone? _I mean, clearly she's a fan of surprises, but seriously?_ But through all of Yang's curiosity she never asked; to be honest, Yang never asked much of anything to Cinder.

They were approximately a half hour into the desert, on foot, because Cinder said that a vehicle would be too noisy, when Cinder finally spoke.

"I'm sure you're wondering what this is all about, sweetheart." Her voice was saccharine, though it was nothing new, nor was the ever present fear inundated with it.

A nod was all she earned.

"Well, since you've accompanied me this far I suppose its only fair that I share with you what this mission is all about." _Mission?_ But Yang said nothing. "A reliable source tipped me to some interesting information about a girl, about your age actually. She's quite special I hear. Remarkable skills for her age; kind of reminds me of you."

The blonde let Cinder go on, uninhibited.

"Anyway, apparently she's quite the thief, and a few big corporations are losing a lot of money. And as they lose goods, people stop going there; I'm sure you know how it works." She didn't, but she kept that fact to herself. "One such corporation decided to take action upon themselves, rather that let a few bumbling policeman try and explain how a little girl slipped by their precious guns once again. Long story short, they hired a mercenary group to track down this girl and kill her. It was supposed to be an easy hit, but apparently the first idiot was knocked unconscious, and the second ended up dead."

She supposed she followed what Cinder was saying, even though everyone was a pronoun in her breifing. This mission was to find a girl that was going to be murdered. Maybe Yang could get behind this... Though the whole notion sounded a lot more noble than Yang thought it actually was.

"This group is built upon its reputation of being reliable and fast, and so far they've already failed in the latter. Better late than never though, so they're going to send a whole squad of goons to track down this girl." She put her hands together and though Yang did not look at Cinder, it was clear she was grinning. "I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Why do you need me?"

Cinder turned to her and made a face like she'd just heard that black went out of style. "My, my, how terribly bold of you. That was so uncharact-" she retorted before cutting herself off. "Is this my sweetheart? Who are you and what have you done with Yang?"

The victim would have rolled her eyes, but she didn't just in case it would earn Cinder's ire. She just loved to tease her; it got annoying sometimes, but at least the scary bit wore off after a while. To be honest, Yang didn't really mind it. It may have been a snipe at her ego each time, but since when did she care about that? It was also one of the only games that Cinder liked to play in which Yang remained without injury.

With no response from Yang, Cinder continued,

"Well, it's at least nice to know you've found your voice. It's been far too long since I've heard it. And to answer your question - you're here because I chose for you to be."

"I see... Then what will I be doing?" Yang inquired.

"Slow down dear, I'm getting to that. Here, look at me."

"What!?" she blurted.

"Come on, it'll just take a second."

Yang did as she was told, turning to her left facing Cinder. She didn't know what this was about, and she could admit that she was more than a little nervous, but she knew better than to argue with Cinder.

"Hold still..." Cinder whispered while reaching for something in her breast pocket.

"Ah-" Yang's shoulder jumped and her bones tensed at her touch. "What are you doing?"

"Relax, I'm just fixing your hair."

Cool metal grazed against the girl's forehead, a shiver ignited at the contact.

"What is this?" Yang lightly patted her bangs, which now curved up around the side of her head. The world felt a shade clearer.

"It's a hair clip; to keep your hair out of your face." she explained.

Yang's head tilted upwards, crimson orbs staring into a smiling and outwardly welcoming face. There it was, a similar tool tangled in Cinder's own ashen black hair, beautiful and swaying in the twilight winds. An odd sense of melody came over her for but a second, like she actually proud of having matching hair pins with Cinder.

Just to feel it out once more, both of Yang's hands came up to the instrument, pressing it against her head as it poofed back again each time, and then finally settled after adjusting it slightly to the side.

"... Thank you." a soft whisper was spoken.

"Of course, sweetheart. This is your first mission, so I thought it'd be nice to get you something special, not to mention practical; you can see better now can't you?"

 _How thoughtful..._ Yang had thought, and it was, but it was for a mission.

"Yes..." Yang answered truthfully.

She could, and yet no matter how Yang thought she didn't feel it, there was something that she couldn't shake about wearing her hair like this. It was like she missed her bangs being there, always in the corner of her field of vision and warm against her forehead.

It was so silly, how Yang still clung to childish things. She was still a child in fact, but her environment and experiences begged to differ. But during this particular occasion, she couldn't help but feel she was letting a part of her go.

It was strange, and only more frustrating, because her bangs weren't gone; she touched them with her own hand, felt their silkiness and wiriness both, twice to boot. They were still right there, far enough so that Yang couldn't see them, but still close enough to know that they were there.

And yet that brought on a feeling of insecurity. She never noticed it before, and maybe she took those locks of hair for granted, no matter how juvenile that sounded, but now that they were shut away, it was like Yang dropped a shield. It felt as if she just lost a barrier to the outside world, all the dangers and troubles free to assault her now.

Maybe it was now that Yang couldn't bear to look Cinder in the eyes, instead shuffling them away to the side. She felt so vulnerable, like a few strands of blonde actually protected her from Cinder's fury. And to the smallest extent she supposed they did; they would always cover one eye, or maybe it just felt different to have them out of the way.

 _This is so stupid. What am I doing? If I'm going to be on a mission or whatever with Cinder, then I can't be doing this right now._ And so she just left it as it was, content to follow Cinder's lead.

"Sweetheart? Did you hear me?"

Yang looked to her, and jumped, but then responded, "No, sorry. I was lost in thought."

"Pay more attention next time. If this was just you on this operation then you already would have fumbled it." Cinder told her, but for some strange reason it didn't sound as derogatory as it should have. Yang averted her gaze. "There it is, that building."

Yang's eyes that had wandered the scene now focused to were Cinder had pointed, and sure enough there it was. A massive thing, it was a structure comprised mostly of metal it seemed, and barbed wire encircled the whole of it. While large it didn't appear to steal much square footage, leaning closer to a skyscraper type structure than a flat.

Tall, chimney like exhaust systems towered over the rest, spouting thick and rolling black clouds of smoke into the cool night air. Yang could even smell the pollution from where she was.

As they approached closer and closer, Yang squinted, and though she did not expect this to be easy, she espied at least a dozen men pacing back and forth with high caliber assault rifles on a series of floor, at least two on each.

"Ready, sweetheart?"

No. No, she was not ready.

* * *

Yang could hardly remember the last time she felt this way. The last she could recall was that distant memory, just a blurry silhouette of a scene of some far off place. She couldn't pinpoint the exact time or location or event of that day, but the feeling of it was distinct.

It was that feeling that you're all alone in the world, but stranger and more sudden. The young girl did not expect it in the slightest. She expected something for sure, but that was more along the lines of bloodshed and violence. She had no doubt that would still happen, but internally Yang did not expect herself to react in this way.

The natural response to the situation would be fear or opportunism. Yang was definitely scared, but not in the way she would have hoped. She wasn't crying or anxious of the loud noises and eerie solitude she found herself in, no. She wasn't even thinking about trying to escape. Quite the opposite actually.

Yang was frightened because Cinder was not by her side. She felt almost silly. How ironic was it that all this time she wanted Cinder out of her life, and then the second she actually was, and Yang was left in a foreign place, she wished she were back.

It was unexplainable. That moment, or rather string of moments when Cinder sped away down that corridor. Yang was surprised at first; she could barely even comprehend Cinder's instructions, let alone what to do with them. Cinder was gone, out of her sight and the only sign of her were the screams echoing throughout the structure.

Part of Yang yelled at her to run, run as far away as she could. But her feet did not move. She wanted to believe that was because in the back of her mind she knew that Cinder would just catch up to her, or that Ruby might be in danger. But somehow, Yang also knew that wasn't the reason either.

The reason was incomprehensible, idiotic, and just utterly wrong.

 _How could someone so cruel and vile make me feel this way!?_

Yang almost wept then. At the feeling of longing for someone more than she could ever remember longing. That wasn't wrong if it was a good person. Cinder was not a good person.

With unexplainable pain in Yang's chest, she did the only thing she knew how, and that was to obey.

 _Take caution sweetheart, find the drive, and come back safely. Do not fail me._

"Of course." she whispered aloud.

And with a lengthy gaze into the direction in which Cinder ran off to, Yang promptly spun 180 degrees around, and started her own trot in that direction.

As perhaps expected, it didn't take long before someone appeared before her. Yang found herself at an intersection, a route to both the left and the right, joining up with each other about fifty yards around, with metal railing encircling the openness below. She was on the second floor of the building, and most floors seemed to carry the same design, a circular walkway with a giant hole in the middle. It was to fit in a crude-looking elevator, with a ramp on each floor to connect to.

Yang peered around the corner, and sure enough there was a large man, carefully watching the ground over the circular balcony, and like a statue he guarded a door, unlabeled. He wore camouflage pants that rolled all the way down to his calves, with a red beret atop his hat like a cherry on a sundae. That almost made Yang laugh, but it was perhaps the urgency and responsibility placed upon her that sealed it back away.

He was just as muscular as his ripped shirt indicated, too much almost in a way that made him seem unreal. But he was all too real no doubt, as was the intimidating piece of machinery he held across his chest.

 _Why is he just standing there?_ The blonde thought, and after only a brief few seconds Yang realized what was going on.

She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or upset. The good news was that she found what she was looking for. The buff guy was almost assuredly guarding something; could be a records room, maybe a drive inside... But with every good there was a bad... Well the living, breathing, _tank_ spoke for itself.

How was Yang, the little girl, supposed to engage, fight, and subsequently kill a full grown man, who, by the way, was clearly trained and polished with an unlocked aura. All while avoiding other possible reinforcements and locating and securing a drive that Yang didn't even know looked like. Oh, and a gun. Yang had to beat a gun too.

While most likely obvious, Yang was for sure fighting an uphill battle. Her first one too; uphill and battle alike. _What am I to do?_

She wasn't given the time to think for in the slightest moment, so slight that Yang wasn't even sure it happened, she espied a glaring scar across the man's cheekbone. Her head cocked back behind the wall reflexively. An interim of short breaths rushed in, and Yang was flustered for a second. Of course she wasn't sure the man even saw her. It was a short glance, Yang was low to the ground, and she was as silent as a mouse.

Slowly, one eye sneaked around the corner, with the intention of checking to see if the man had reacted in anyway. The action was immediately regretted, as Yang was greeted by the angry face of a monster human hybrid. Panic set in as quick as it could possibly, urging Yang to escape back the way she came.

Her heart beat unbearably fast, her feet moved only faster, and while the clang of heavy footsteps was inaudible, it felt as if the whole metal ground shook with each stride.

 _What do I do!?_ Cinder had trained her to fight, and while the woman was clearly crazy, she wasn't stupid. She made sure Yang received tutelage in tactics, first aid, terrain; she may never been on a mission before, but she knew as much about one as someone who had never been on one could.

And with the knowledge so gratefully bestowed upon Yang, she carefully and swiftly calculated her options in her head. _Fight?_ No, that's out. Run and find Cinder? A lot more promising sounding she told herself.

And so she did. She pushed her legs as hard as she could, and with each stride came the assurance that she was stretching the gap between her and her chaser even more, the distinct footfalls of his steps softer and softer as time went on.

But as nothing ever was cemented into certainty in Yang's mind, she found herself stopping in a patch of darkness under a tunnel like place, for both a breather and a chance to ponder.

As smart as it sounded just to flee, because Yang most assuredly was fast enough, what with her significantly lighter load, and if she could make it back to Cinder than protection would come easy, she still hesitated.

She tried to explain it to herself. Yang could rather simply run to Cinder for protection, have her beat everyone up, and then be done with it. That was perhaps the most rational and for sure the safest. But it wasn't what Yang really wanted.

How long had it been, since she'd met Cinder? The exact number was not coming to mind, but it was well over a year, for sure. Not once had Yang a chance as big as this one. What was it a chance for Yang had no idea, but what she was sure of was that Cinder trained her for a reason. It wasn't for amusement, Yang was most certain.

This- this mission, it was a test of some sort. It almost seemed choreographed, in a way; Cinder leaving when she did, tasking Yang with what seemed like the more important part...

Did she trust Yang? Enough to leave her alone with precious information? Or was it just not that important, or maybe she thought she had so much control over Yang that it didn't matter?

So maybe this girl or whatever was valuable. Maybe Cinder did really wanted her "as her own". But why? Why bring the useless girl along? Did all Cinder want was to test if Yang could beat some soldier? Nothing made sense anymore... If Cinder wanted this info so bad then she could have gotten it on her own time, on one of her days off or whatever. It was clearly a suicide mission for Yang!

Cinder just wanted Yang to die, didn't she? _She's a psychopath. She doesn't need reasons for anything_. Maybe she trained Yang all this time just to kill her now, like a pig fattened for slaughter. Maybe Cinder was somewhere with a camera, watching through a lens as Yang ran around flustered like a rat lost in a maze.

 _Now I'm talking crazy..._

What were Cinder's motives that was unclear, but what was clear, were her instructions.

"Do not fail me..." Yang repeated the words uttered by her superior with a soft and delicate voice.

And she wouldn't fail, she knew that now.

Yang ducked into the shadows of an overhead canopy, away from floodlights and moonbeams. As planned her stalker came rushing towards the hall with heavy stomps. Yang fell to the floor, with one hand held over her mouth to hide her breaths. Her heart stopped in sync with the man. The tunnel-like place was pitch black, she knew that. They were both invisible to each other, but Yang knew he was right there, not a yard away, his overwhelming presence still and pressurizing.

Yang made no attempt to move, no attempt to give her away her position to someone who had no doubt been highly trained. The silence was piercing. It seemed impossible, but Yang felt almost more scared than she'd ever felt with Cinder. This man wanted to kill her. Cinder never did. Cinder wanted to toy with her, to hurt her for her own enjoyment, but never kill.

Seconds only grew longer as they passed, until time was no longer discernible to Yang. It must have been hours when the familiar pound against the steel flooring resumed. _He's leaving..._

Foolishly, she let out the tiniest beginning of a breath, and that was when it went off.

It roared. The rapid fire brought down upon the ground, bullets ricocheting back and forth with comparable noise to a familiar scream. They bounced back and forth, with a screeching din that rang in her ears even after the firing had stopped. It wasn't until the last few clangs that Yang surmised that he had started to walk away.

She glanced back, and there he was walking out into the light and down the corridor. Yang had done it.

But her job didn't end there.

With no time to waste Yang pushed herself up and sped back towards that special door. She made in there in no time flat, around the corner and the she found herself knocking at hidden door's doorstep. She kindly skipped the knocking part though, in favor of busting straight in. She just had to hope no one was in there, because if there as then it was a good thing she didn't celebrate too early.

It didn't seem anyone was in there, but a different problem arose. The door was locked. It was almost comical how she didn't anticipate it. She should have, and she had evaded a literal giant, so being trumped by a stupid lock was kind of embarrassing.

It made her worry for more than a second, she would admit that much, but if she just backtracked no more than a few hours ago, she would find the key to this lock. With a flick of a hand her bangs fell smoothly over her lashes, and Yang's hands moved wildly as she bent the long side of the clip and inserted it into the lock.

Was it mere coincidence that Cinder had done her hair the way she did today? The chances of that were slim to none. It was too convenient, almost as if Cinder knew Yang would need a hair pin to pick a lock.

 _Maybe she does know everything..._ But did Yang even care? No, she supposed she didn't. This may have been a test of everything Yang had learned but it wasn't like she didn't already know that. Everything was already set up; Cinder knew all that transpired and that would transpire on this mission. Yang didn't know how, but she just did.

It was still a trial though. Cinder could know that Yang would run into an altercation with a mercenary or a locked door, and she did her best to prepare her for that, but above all that if Yang couldn't complete the challenges than it didn't matter how many hair pins she gave her.

And if this was in fact merely a test with an arbitrary goal, then if Yang were to fail, then she would not be worthy, and that could only lead to pain. Cinder had all the pieces in their correct places, set up everything to go smoothly, and maybe even throw a few wrinkles just for a challenge; all Yang had to do was follow her instructions and deliver the final blow.

The door clicked. Heeding Cinder's parting words however, Yang froze, remembering her training. This was a important room, no? Surely there would be more security than just one guard and a crappy lock? Her gut feeling told her that there was more than met the eye behind this scrap of metal.

The door creaked as it edged open. It was safety first, so Yang knelt down and peered one eye through the thin lining of the door, careful not to accidentally bump the door itself. Each second was an inch more space, and yet all Yang could see were littered papers and yellow-ish walls.

She would be lying if she said she wasn't anxious. While relatively confident in her own skills - she was trained by the best - her skills really only pertained to minor combat and stealth. If there was a trap, she wouldn't know how to disarm it.

Or what if she didn't see it. Cinder always said, "Even the cleverest trap will give way to the watchful eye." but Yang didn't really know how much of that was really applicable here.

But after one more fraction of an inch, what lay before her was not very assuring to her well being.

"What is that thing?" Yang whispered to herself more than anyone, though she most certainly knew what it was.

All contact was released from the door, the blonde instantly backing up and leaving the door ajar. She glanced upwards, and sure enough there was an almost invisible but translucent piece of wire, hooked up right next to the hinge at the top of the door. It looked as taught as it could be, and there was no way that Yang knew of to disarm such a trap.

But she was not turning back now, and so she swiftly deduced that there was a single option to her dilemma: set off the booby trap.

Ooh, how she dreaded that choice, but being the only clear path forward, she took a big step to the left of the door frame. After re-clipping the pin back in her hair, though for sure sloppier than Cinder had, the girl gave the slightest push to the entrance, retracting her hand and covering her ears.

It went off for sure, no doubt. It was only as clear as day, because even while she attempted to muffle her ears it was still a threatening roar, and she could only imagine it would have broken her eardrums should she have not lessened the boom. After her twisted face and trembling body settled, she hastily banged the door fully open, and she pretended not to think about how badly her wounds would be if the bullet were to hit her, though she guessed it would have been more than just a dent in a solid steel door.

And she was in. Time was of the essence right now, so Yang immediately got to work, flicking the light switch by the door frame. She had no idea what the drive looked like, no idea where it might be placed, but Yang would have to just search through what she could and grab all the flash drives she found just in case.

The room was not large, in comparable size to Yang's own quarters, but it was stuffed to the brim with messy papers and file cabinets and a lone desk and chair in the furthest corner. Yang would have sworn a Grimm got in here and trashed the place if not for the fact that the door was locked and the stacks of folders and papers that littered the floor were in a sort of organized mess. And of course the gun tied to piano wire. Was it still smoking? Back to the stacks of papers, though; scattered across the ground for sure, but all the ones on the left seemed to pertain to personnel and hirings, while the right contained past employers and financial things.

This flash drive was a small object she was aware, but it must have been recent so Yang just skipped over the file cabinets and everything on the floor, heading straight for the desk in the corner.

Luck finally smiled upon her, for there it was! A small white drive, and it appeared someone was kind enough to label it for the past week as well as what it was - a list of targets.

"This is what Cinder was looking for..."

Yang felt almost proud; this was her first mission, and while there were indeed a few bumps along the road, she conquered it. Cinder would be so proud. Wait- Did Yang- did she care about that?

"Don't move, you bitch. Put your hands in the air." a deep, stern voice ordered.

Oh, no. Yang was flustered; should she try and run? _Not yet,_ she told herself, because she was still facing the wall opposite her exit. She also had no weapons aside from the knife in her boot, but there was no way she would be able to reach it without a bullet through her chest.

And seeing as she was so accustomed to doing she obeyed, raising her hands into the air, but while she still retained the coverage of her position, she placed the drive onto her tongue in the same motion as her hands came up.

"Now turn around." Once again she did as she was told, slowly turning around while keeping her hands in the air. Red eyes widened. _It's that same guy..._ The scar on his face, everything down to his clothes, and he did not look pleased.

"I think you're lost little girl." the man whose name was still undisclosed said, but it was demanding and insinuating. There was no hint of a question in there at all, and Yang was sure to not be able to feign ignorance for this one. This man certainly didn't care that she was just a little girl; all her knew was that there was an intruder to be eliminated.

"What's your name?" Yang didn't answer. Both because she couldn't without dropping the item in her mouth, and because she didn't see any real reason to. "Who sent you!?" he demanded even louder.

"Damn it! What the hell's taking Tristan so long!?" he roared to himself, and it was only seconds after that an blaring alarm rang.

"What!?"

There was only a second of time. A tiny margin of an opening for Yang to make her move. The instant the buff mercenary looked away- no, the fraction of a moment when his vibrant blue eyes averted towards the sound, Yang lunged towards the man who was standing in the doorway.

It was all a blur as she tried for the door; shouts could be heard over the alarm but nothing else, and a roughness stung her shoulder as she squeezed through the man and the door. It was like when she used to try to fit in cabinets and storage compartment when she played hide and seek, but somehow here she made it through.

The downed girl wasted no time once she was past him as she got up on her feet and ran towards whatever direction presented itself to her, but before she could take off the nameless man swung something - his rifle, her mind supplied - in an arc, and it impacted hard with the back of her head.

She fell to the ground awkwardly and prostrate, feeling like doing nothing more than just lying there and letting this man capture her or worse, but in some rare moment of strength she shot straight up and ran where she could. It was impossible to tell, but she was not far away when an inexplicable pain in her shoulder.

A bullet. Then a scream. Her scream, it was, and those familiar footsteps stomped - one, two, three, one, two, three. Then they stopped, and through Yang's confused mind she knew he was standing right above her, and that his high caliber gun was aimed right towards her.

Yang was laying on her side, against her left shoulder, while her right was covered in blood. It oozed out, she could feel it. It no doubt dripped all over her tunic, but she could feel it bleed onto her neck. The warm but at the same time all too chilling liquid as it made its way to the her chin and around her collarbone was terrible, but the worst part was knowing that she was going to die.

She'd thought she'd worked that fear out of her system a long time ago but she figured she was wrong. It might have been one of those things that could never be washed away, like true love. Yang found clarity shortly after she was shot, yet she was still mostly immobile. This was likely due to her high pain tolerance. She'd spent time building it up, involuntarily of course, but she had thank Cinder for that afterwards because she could only imagine the pain she currently felt if she wasn't so used to it. Okay, maybe she wouldn't thank Cinder.

Yang's mind clearer than it was before, now simply containing an unabating pounding instead of an all out onslaught of pain, she heard the following words hissed at her,

"You've lived far long enough, girly. I think detaching your tiny head from your shoulders is a suitable reprisal for what you've committed."

Yang remembered the feeling of rough fingers viciously grabbing at her hair. It recalled memories of Cinder doing similar. Yang would have blood drenched over her, in immense pain, and then soft, gentle fingers would run through her hair.

This was the same thing, except the opposite; it tested her roots as he lifted her up by a clump of blonde mixed with red. She remained limp like a rag doll the whole time, only motion being her mostly stagnant wince. Crimson orbs stared into those of a complete stranger, though Yang's only cracked open, while his were wide with fury.

She caught the glimpse of refracted light, only moments later finding it to be by the silver blade of a knife, and so it seemed the owner was staying true to his words. Cold tickled her jugular, edging into her skin, only an ounce of more pressure and she would be spraying more blood than she could afford to to stay conscious, and with a growl the knife-

"Nghh..." Thump.

That was the sound of a body hitting the floor. Yang's hair was released in sync with that noise, but she did not touch the ground. Her eyes peered fully open to find a warm face, and a welcome one, especially in this situation. It was Cinder. She had just slit a man's throat, just like said man was about to do to Yang, and she was holding her frame, one hand over her pouring wound.

At this time one thing repeated in the young girl's brain. _Cinder Fall just saved my life. Cinder Fall just saved my life. Cinder Fall just saved my life._

"I'm the only one who's allowed to hurt her." That was what Cinder said to a lifeless corpse on the ground, but, to Yang, that didn't diminish the fact that Cinder saved her life.

All she wished was that she could say thank you, but she couldn't muster enough strength to.

"You're safe now... Did you get the drive?" her savior whispered softly to her.

The blonde nodded and opened her mouth, and thankfully Cinder realized what she was doing and gently removed the drive from her tongue.

"I'm going to set you down now, okay?"

"Thank you." Yang replied, suddenly with enough strength to, and that earned her a warm smile from Cinder.

Yang didn't notice that Cinder had walked anywhere but apparently she did, because when Yang was set down the man was nowhere to be found. The ground was solid beneath her, but she couldn't find it in her to complain, and she licked her lips and swallowed just to re-adjust after getting that thing out of her mouth. Heels clicked out of sight as Cinder walked back into the room in which Yang found the drive originally, plugging the implement into the computer.

"Rean Schwarzer, Laura Arseid, Jusis Albarea... Emerald Sustrai."

Cinder walked back to where Yang laid, presumably finding what she needed, kneeling down near her face. "Ready to go?"

"Yes." she whispered with a nod.

"Can you stand?"

"I- I think so." Yang pushed her upper body up with her hands, mildly surprised to find that her shoulder hurt only slightly and that the wound was already closed, but that was just the power of aura she knew. Cinder helped her as she got to her feet, and she was less surprised to find that she could stand easy.

From there on, Yang followed Cinder out of the building, and for sure they had overstayed their welcome. On the way, Yang passed by the dozens of bodies, but all she could think of was the one that had assaulted her. The drenched fabric of his shirt, the gash and pool of dried crimson surrounding it, the silly beret wrong-side up a foot from his body...

This nameless man; Yang held no grudge against him. He could have been the nicest man; he could have had a wife and kids and home. Yang didn't know, and she would never. All she knew was that he had gotten in the way of Cinder's objective - of their objective - and he'd paid for it.

He had paid dearly.

It was light when the two of them had left the fort, when Cinder snapped her fingers, and when a huge inferno ignited in the foreground of a rising sun.

* * *

 **Also, props to anyone who got the reference in this chapter. I like to put a lot of references in my stories, whether from movies or video games or literature or even other fanfiction, so pat yourself on the back if you've noticed any of them.**

 **Also, I've been thinking of doing omakes at the end of each chapter. I've have a couple ideas for ones, but I don't want to start doing them if I won't be able to keep them up, so leave a comment if you would like that as well.**


	5. Chapter 5

**So I apologize for the delay, but I was writing for my other new story which is out now. Check it out, it's called _Secrets? What Secrets?,_ a Jaune centered short story perhaps full length story depending on if enough people like it. Go check it out, leave a review if you want me to keep writing.**

 **On to the story...**

* * *

"Sooo... Remind me again: this woman - your boss - is, like, dangerous?" Yang fidgeted as she walked towards what could very well be her own execution. Or at least disfigurement.

"...Extremely." _Well that was reassuring._

"More than you?" Yang questioned as she jogged ahead to walk next to Cinder, only to fall behind again at the slightest glare in the corner of her amber eyes. They felt like they could stop her heart if she stared into them for more than a split second, and Yang found herself shuddering at the thought that this woman - that she was to be face to face with in less than five minutes - was even deadlier than her master.

"On a scale from 1 to 10, how dangerous is this woman?" Yang found herself inquiring after a small nod, biting her lip in a prayer for an eight or something. Because she was pretty sure anything higher would mean certain death if she messed up. "1 being she's totally harmless and 10 being she's evil incarnate and will turn me into a pile of ash if I so much as breathe."

"Evil incarnate is not to far off..."

"I thought that was you." Yang joked with a laugh, though it came out weak and was soon regretted as Cinder did not seem to find it humorous, and, to be honest, neither did Yang.

"But she won't kill you if you just breathe. You'd have to screw up royally for her to kill you on the spot like that. Not even she is that cruel." Cinder continued, ignoring Yang's not so funny jape and stroking her ashen hair. "Unless she's in a bad mood; then it's fifty-fifty."

Yang choked on air as it wrapped around her throat, the anxiousness enveloping her esophagus in a fierce determination - one that wanted to kill her - and Yang wasn't sure that she shouldn't just let it.

"And how often is that?" Yang ground out, "Her being in a pissy mood that is."

"All the time..." Cinder answered in a sigh. "The only time I've seen her not is the day I first met her... and when Mannie finally rolled over." Yang let out an "eep", because one of those seemed extremely monumental and the other just plain stupid. What did she have to do? Play dead?

That was very possible, though she probably wouldn't be playing.

"You didn't answer my question, though." Cinder shot her a look over her shoulder, one eyebrow corrugated in a curious mien. "1 to 10..."

Cinder's eyes rolled at that, but she answered anyway, "I'd say... zero." A hopeful smile grew on Yang's face before- "As in you'll be no more if you mess up." Before dying an ugly death upon the sharp rocks of reality...

"I'm so not prepared for this..." Yang whispered - secretly hoping Cinder would decide that this was a bad idea and reschedule a few years from now - though it came out more like a squeak than anything.

"Unfortunately you don't have a choice. I had originally planned for this-this - whatever this is - to happen once you were more mature, but she wants to meet you now. And what Salem wants Salem gets." Yang listened with one ear, at the same time coming up with a good - accurate - replacement for the word this, which she ended up settling for "your funeral". That led her mind to wander to what she would want her will to read and what flowers she would want at her grave. Nothing and roses, she decided, but then worked to dispel such morbid thoughts.

"You'll have to suck it up though. Take solace in the fact that it will be quick and painless. I'm sure she'll grant you that much at least." _Way to make me feel better._ If Cinder had sought to boost her confidence than she was doing a dandy fine job of it.

"Aren't you supposed to tell me that it will all be okay, and that you have faith in me?" Yang asked, though the answer was clear in her mind and had been for the last week leading up to this point.

"I don't believe in spreading false truths." _Of course you don't..._

"Can you? Just this once?" she begged, because her confidence in seeing Emerald again was dangerously close to the probability of Cinder's favorite color being pink.

"Just once what?" Cinder followed while continuing walking purposefully.

"I dunno... do something to motivate me." Maybe some words of inspiration would cloud the trepidation and fear that struck her feet as she walked. One could always hope.

Cinder stopped in her tracks, subsequently drawing in a lengthy breath and sighing. "She's going to test you, most likely against a Grimm. It'll be hard, and you'll feel like giving into the pressure, but don't. If you do that, you'll most assuredly die."

A long stretch of silence - a good ten to fifteen seconds - passed by,

"Wow..." Yang shook her head to clear her mind, "That was literally the worst motivational speech I've ever heard in my entire life. And that's saying something. You're supposed to make me feel all pumped up and ready to go. I thought I was walking to my own execution before, but now... you might as well drop the axe and get it over with. In fact, I'll do it myself. Where are those dual swords you're always carrying around?"

Yang made a show of looking for it on Cinder's person, but that just made her sigh. "Yang." Said girl immediately froze. _She never calls me that..._ "Look, you'll do fine. I won't let her hurt you."

 _Okay... Now I'm worried._ "I-I don't-"

"Forget about it," she interupted, "I'm just trying to motivate you is all. Get you pumped up and ready to go, just like you said."

"Oh..." _Wishful thinking..._ "Haha... You know I don't think it works if you tell me that."

"My mistake, then."

There was a lengthy silence as the two of them began to walk again, a rhythmic tapping from Cinder's heels that Yang focused on, which was surprisingly more effective at getting her mind off other things than she would have expected.

Until they finally reached the highly anticipated and dreaded door, at which point Yang tried once again to escape or at least postpone her doom,

"Okay, all kidding aside, I really don't think I can do this m'lady. I have no idea what to expect, or what to do."

Cinder looked to her right down towards Yang with a reassuring smile. "Of course you can, and you will." _Whoa. I just had some intense deja vu..._ "Because you don't have a choice."

"I still-" she protested, but was cut off before she could complete herself.

"We're here."

Yang chuckled nervously as she stealthily turned around, before being dragged by her collar to the large pitch black door. Cinder knocked on it. It was a new scene; never before had Yang seen her perform such an act. Usually she would just barge in - or blow through, as would cases of Schnee offices go - which led to more than a few awkward situations behind Yang's own door.

Ornately decorated doors groaned open shortly after. Yang savored the sight before letting out the sigh of the damned and walking purposefully through the double doors - one step behind Cinder.

It was a dark hall - large - but small enough to make her feel claustrophobic the second she set foot in it. That might have been the fear of death though, and sweat only seemed to drip across her face in sticky waves as Cinder pulled her hand away from Yang's own, which must have been clinging to her subconsciously.

She scrunched her eyes closed, envisioning the best picture of Salem as she could. It was a tall lady; she had blonde hair wrapped up in a ponytail, blue scarf, a tan shirt with white pants and boots. She looked kind and motherly, but the second she sensed the smallest smidgen of fear or weakness she pounced, transforming into this demon of a woman: deathly pallor, crimson irises, white hair that offshoots in, like, six different directions. Oh, and don't forget those freaky ass veins.

 _Don't show fear. Don't show fear. Don't show fear_. she replayed the mantra in her mind, though she knew confidence wouldn't be enough to save her.

One eye peeked open, and then shut at the sight, and then reopened.

It wasn't a tall blonde woman with normal clothing, in fact, it wasn't even a woman. A muscular, well-toned man stood before them, arms crossed over his chest, a stern look adorning his face.

Yang's mouth opened as if to say something, but the man strode towards Cinder and her, walking between them and out the door. Her eyes followed him as he walked down the corridor that she had spent dozens of minutes worrying on, but no one said anything. And as she looked back, another presence stood in his place.

 _Oh shit..._

Her nightmare came true... It was exactly how she pictured her, except there was no first stage. There was no kind and motherly lady phase; she skipped right to the scary as hell phase.

Yang's hand came up beside her face, pulling back to the right, and then back in a sharp impact. Apparently, anyway, her right arm had yet to understand that the humanoid figure that stood barely a few yards away was not just a figment of her imagination - as much as she wished it was - but a real live person demon.

Her face instantly turned red, then blue, which she realized was because of the lack of oxygen, but she also realized that if she were to exhale now, she might be dead. Though a pile of ash didn't seem quite so inconvenient right now...

"Cinder." The words sliced through her own thoughts like a hot knife through butter, and thankfully Salem seemed to pardon the slapping of her own face, and the humiliating scene of white to red to blue to green, as Yang felt sick at her own embarrassment and surprise and the thought of what Cinder would do to her once - if - she got back home.

"M'lady." Cinder addressed. "How was your conference?"

"It was fine, I assure you, but please, I'd like to meet your apprentice." Salem's gaze averted to Yang, making her bite her tongue even harder.

"This is-" Cinder tried to say, but was easily cut off by her master, which was another surprise for Yang.

It was not exactly a pleasant surprise though, because instead of Cinder introducing the young girl for her, Salem seemed to want for her to handle it herself, "I'd prefer if the young lady would introduce herself." A palm laid out towards Yang, alabaster colored skin and long slender fingers curling outwards elegantly.

"Of course, m'lady." Yang received a slight nudge to her shoulder, gentle but urging and forceful at the same time. "Go on, sweetheart." Cinder told her sweetly.

"My name is Yang Xiao Long, m'lady." she greeted respectfully, genuflecting to only add to that, but remained concise and short to disguise her underlying anxiety.

"You may rise, darling; I am Salem, I've heard promising things about you." The blonde did as she was told, reverting out of her kneeling position as gracefully as she knew how. She was glad to see that the one known as Salem was at least quite nice - so far; the praise was appreciated, and it was indeed endearing to hear that Cinder had talked well about her.

The woman in front of her directed her piercing, blood red sclera's towards Cinder, without saying a word, but Cinder seemed to know what she was doing and took over the talking, "As you know this is Yang. I have been training with her for five years now. She is supremely talented with a strong aura, and remarkably intelligent for her age; she's already gone on dozens of mission with me, and has always done magnificently."

"This is the girl that you took when you failed to capture the silver-eyed one?" Ruby, it was clear they were talking about, though it was strange to hear someone describe another person simply by their eye color. It didn't seem to really matter, though Yang's heart clenched to think about Ruby if she was in this situation.

"...She is." Cinder responded after a pause, admitting it with a penitent expression. "But you'll be pleased to know that she has out-performed all of my expectations. I believe she was well worth it."

"Was she now? She must be quite the talent, then. I'm looking forward to seeing her in action." At least one of us is...

"Of course, m'lady."

Salem guided Yang to stand over at one side of a circle, engraved in the flooring, and the only way you knew it was there was the purple glow, faint and ominous against the pitch blackness. She glanced to her right, where Cinder and Salem stood a far distance off, safely away from whatever battle was going to take place. Perhaps she was mistaken, but Yang could have sworn that was a face of worry on Cinder.

"Are you ready, Yang?" Salem called, and the echo of such a voice only instilled fear ten-fold.

At her warning, Yang adopted a battle stance, with fist raised and body held low to the ground. She could feel the knife's cool metal rubbing against her right ankle, and she patted the one over her left breast; a familiar one, and in a way it made her feel safer, because it saved her life more than once.

As ready as she would ever be, she nodded towards the opaque wall, but expected Salem to see her.

A snap of fingers later, and Yang's eye twitched at the ickyness of gunk forming near the middle of the arena. She can create Grimm!? Cinder had warned her, subtly indeed. When Cinder said that Yang was to fight a Grimm she expected same cage to be brought before her and released, not for Salem to snap her fingers and then "poof!" there's a Grimm.

She supposed it didn't change anything in terms of the fighting, but she sent Cinder a dirty look regardless, to which she responded with a shrug. An apparition covered in muck emerged from the mire, gradually and groaning with a diluted version of the substance lathered over its body. Yang's eyes fell towards the pool of black to find it dissipating, and then the thick ooze coating the materialized creature dripped on the floor, and with each globule of sludge was a steaming mist around it like boiling water, and evaporate it did, shrinking until it was nothing but murk.

It was an Ursa, large and dominating, a minor as well, at least. Yang had fought them before; they were strong, and even one landed blow could seriously injure her, but their speed left a lot to be desired. So after sizing up her enemy, Yang decided on a hit and run tactic, which she luckily was quite adjusted to using on a regular basis.

But for some reason it was not moving. In the corner of Yang's eyes she espied more pools being created, and the bloodcurdling sound each accompanied only served as more evidence to there vileness. A serious problem for sure. The blonde glanced around for as long as she dared; one, two, three. At least, she figured, and this was not going to be easy. She never expected it to be, but now she was going to have to reach into her bag of tricks to pull this off. Damn, she left that at home.

She stayed put. Suddenly silent as beetle, two Ursai scuttled towards her. It dumbfounded her, because Grimm were supposed to be mindless. They weren't supposed to be able to work together, or plan, or observe, or sneak up on people. This was obviously the work of Salem. _Just how powerful is this woman!?_

More followed, slipping through magical portals of yuck. Under the cover of darkness, the pack had stalked closer, impossible to track all of their movements, converging from three directions. They were all Ursai. They had no weapons but the claws they were made with, deadly and cold as ice.

She tried to back up, but backing up from one Grimm was only moving forward to another. She turned in a circle, squinting to see the darkness that shrouded creatures of evil, yet no area proved a worthwhile place to run to. It appeared that her hit and run tactics were not going to work here, at least not as easily.

Thoughts swirled faster than she could decipher, but in a moment she saw the woman who had cared for her for really as long as she could remember. A nod.

That was what got Yang's head back in the game, her body turning to her left. It was her against that many. Long odds.

The girl picked a target - the one in front, where she could reach the fastest and attempt to create space to dance around - and dove in.

It reacted instantly, massive claws swinging in a horizontal arc. Yang ducked purely out of instinct, delivering a decisive uppercut to the beasts exposed jaw. The monster collapsed with a ugly, mangled wound, internal but visible by its head wrenched halfway off its shoulders. The familiar scent of death rose greater in the hall. She pulled her first knife.

Proving that these Grimm had intelligence once more, the others still "alive" hesitated, rather than blindly rushing at her like she predicted. She froze like a statue for longer than she should have, allowing for one Ursai to break the ranks and lunge for her.

Yang was as fast as a cat though, Cinder often praised. With reflexes often associated with the animal, she flipped around and threw.

On point, as always. It sliced through flesh as it protruded from one eye, and yet as she had experienced before, the beast kept its pursuit. She met it head on and maneuvered to inflict a strong blow to its abdominal area. The impact flew it to the side, a dark miasma surrounding the limp body.

It was only as she skipped back, that she clutched the long shallow cut on her forearm. It was bleeding, but it was manageable. Not hurt. "I'm not hurt." she whispered to herself.

There was no time. No time to think, only act...

Ursai charged at her from multiple angles, growing smarter and trying to catch her from more directions than she could handle. Unfortunately, they were doing a good job of it.

On the right. The first thing that came to her. She launched another blade, this one missed badly, bouncing off the damnable armor protecting the creature's head. _Two down. Five to go,_ she counted. That would have been three dead if she didn't still have her hand soaked with blood. "Damn." A waste of a knife.

There was one last in her boot. Not for throwing. That one was for up close.

Yang forced her mind to come up with a strategy. _I can pick them off one by one, using speed..._ But she didn't have anything left to throw, which meant that she would have to kill each one from in close proximity. That was where her strengths lied, but with so many enemies and no way to slow them down from a far, it would be a difficult task no doubt.

With a plan in mind, as faulty as it may have been, the girl drew her last weapon. She killed three with the same tactics: weaving through her opponents and whittling them down and finishing them off when an opening presented itself.

Two more. Claws whistled past. She dodged them and bashed the Ursa with her shoulder jerking it off balance, and then drove her knife through its lower back, jagged to its tailbone, and then diagonal, cleanly severing a back leg.

For an instant she saw the body fall, incapacitated but not dead. It had vicious, gleeful, mad red eyes; outrage pulsed throughout the creature, thrashing wildly before draining away and lying there still.

Yang regretted looking for too long, suffering a violent headbutt to the back. The knife flew teetering off. She fell with a sharp and stinging pain, evading a stomp and rolling away. Up. She had to get up. She staggered to her feet, shaking her head to dispel the ringing in her ears and the black haze clouding her vision.

By the time she was up it was already charging at her again. Feeling the air against her cheeks she skillfully stepped to the side and threw a blow to its side, and when that wasn't enough she punched it with power backed by anger.

It fell to the floor, and after a few seconds it started to disintegrate into dark and shrouding mist. _It's over..._

Yang's eyes circled around desperately looking for Cinder. Once she found her, she expected Cinder to be smiling, or congratulating her, but she did neither.

"Yang, behind you!" she called.

A gurgling sound bubbled behind her. Yang had begun to realize what was happening, but by then it was too late. Her body flipped around one-hundred eighty degrees to see an Ursa Major immediately before her, only to be sent flying with rent gashes across her chest and stomach.

She screamed out at the pain, but like she was used to it was abrupt and numbing; she was conscious but she didn't have the strength to move as her head fell to the side.

Cinder. As Yang yelled at herself to get out of the way, because an Ursa was coming to kill her, to tear her limb from limb and then eat up her remains, the only thing that she could seem to think of was the woman she thought of like a mother staring at her with wide eyes.

Heavy footsteps resumed, drawing near. It would be anytime now, when she would struggle to fight back but fail with her tired muscles and mortal injuries. Yang was too weak to save herself.

And that was when Cinder came to her rescue. Flames appeared before the girl's crimson orbs. They grew larger with the seconds, which she realized was because they were coming closer, just like the Ursai. But she also realized that the inferno wasn't aimed at her, it was trained on the Grimm. _Cinder's is saving me. Again..._

But in that moment when Yang saw Cinder protecting her, knowing that everything would be all right even though she would regret failing- Yang would grow stronger, and impress Salem with another chance, Cinder would make sure of that - something like doom happened.

It was over to the left of Cinder, another person, or demon was more fitting. Salem, it was, if Yang remembered correctly. She snapped her damned fingers once again, and the fire dissipated.

It was unexplainable what happened next. Yang had thought herself down for the count, with no energy to do much of anything. She had thought that her lifeline was Cinder, who would protect her like she always did. And she had thought all of that down to the last moment, until what Yang had thought impossible happened - Cinder was stopped.

She couldn't accept that. Not because she didn't want to die, though she didn't, but she didn't have the power to save herself. The reason she had rolled to her side and gripped the fallen knife in both hands, stabbing it into that monster until it died ten times over; it was because of Cinder. That face she made... when Salem destroyed her fire. A mixture of disbelief and pain and anger. That was what spurred Yang on. What lit her fire.

And it was never going out.

* * *

Ruby was ninety percent sure that she was going to puke. No, make that ninety-five percent. Her knees felt like they'd turned into jelly and every muscle in her body trembled. Not to mention her forehead was sweating profusely, and her feet seemed remarkably a lot like lead weights right now. Though maybe that was just the extreme exhaustion and the hundred degree weather pickling her brain - delusions weren't all that uncommon.

Or perhaps, her feet really had turned into bricks, and she was just hallucinating that she was delusional? Ah, that made more sense.

Adding to that list of glorious symptoms, her lungs were also dripping with some sort of corrosive acid. The liquid probably oozed onto her other vital internal organs as well, which would explain why her chest retched and heaved with each movement.

Oh, and she was dizzy. But... other than that, Ruby was in fine form.

"Faster. Faster!" a voice called - familiar and akin to the devil's - urging her to perform the impossible. "Take slower, deeper breaths. You're going to hyperventilate."

Wasn't it funny, the way he gave you helpful advice, at the same time craftily yelling at you go harder?

 _I can't win, can I?_

Ruby woefully obeyed, her mind too jumbled to do anything but. She drew in one deep, steady breath and held it for a second before letting it out slowly. The burning in her chest didn't smother, but the action did seem to alleviate the severity of her migraine (oh, yeah, she also had a migraine) if only by a sliver.

Her semblance flared as she edged herself further on, an acute ring resounding in her ears and blocking all other noise. Except Uncle Qrow's voice. A bullhead could be flying next to her head and not even that would prevent him from getting on her ass.

Ruby was running on fumes by now, barely scraping by, and the only reason she didn't pass out was because the finish line was in sight. There was a trick though; she'd go around the track too many times to count, so she was never sure which time was the last one. She prayed this was final lap, but it was impossible to tell at this point.

"Stop!"

 _Thanks the heavens!_

Ruby did so immediately - both - freezing at the arbitrary finish line in an abrupt halt. She didn't collapse, though - like she so desperately wanted to - instead adopting a stance so stiff that she could have been mistaken as an Atlas military soldier. That's just what one had to do in the presence of a demon like Uncle Qrow. She managed to keep her legs solid, which was probably only because her knees were too gushy to even buckle under her weight.

"That's enough of that for today."

Her knees liquefied as she fell to the ground in an blanket of rose petals - courtesy of her semblance. She would have sighed, but instead panted in relieved bliss; hands on thighs to support her upper body, blurred vision and short and heavy breaths that wanted nothing more than to replenish her deprived lungs, but just couldn't muster up enough oxygen to fully sooth the ragged sensation.

"You really are improving Ruby, you kept your semblance up for a full five seconds longer than usual today. That's a new record." Uncle Qrow complimented.

His words were mildly encouraging at least, in this long and grueling regime that he so thoughtfully compiled. Sometimes Ruby wondered if she should just fuck it and settle for seventy percent effort, because ninety percent effort was literally killing her right now. Unfortunately, that would lead to the demon forcing her to function at seventy percent effort... for ten times as long.

Neither of their livers could take that right now.

"Thanks to you and your... tough love." she returned between a cough and what was something of a hack. And it was true. Loathe as she was to admit it, his training had been effective, if a little insane.

"I disagree, I believe you have natural talent. In twenty years you'll even surpass me."

Ruby scoffed at his comment loudly, staggering to her feet slowly, swaying a bit as she struggled to regain her balance.

"We'll practice scythe techniques later. For now, get some rest, you've earned it." Silver eyes widened. He was... but he'd never- "Okay, times up."

 _And suddenly we're back in the real world..._

Ruby shook her head, forcing the dizziness to recede through willpower and determination alone. Mostly because the extra few seconds she could savor weren't worth the pain of an extra ten laps - really her only motivation to even try in any of this at all.

No, that wasn't it.

As much as she wished she didn't - didn't care about anything the dusty old man did or said, she did. She wouldn't have usually cared so much - she never did - not with her father or mother. There were times when all she wanted was for them to notice her, sure, and she did wild things just to get their attention, but it never felt as important to her as it did with Uncle Qrow.

Maybe because he wasn't so willing to give love and attention, and, in a way, that made her feel lonely. Unloved. The hour from five to six each day never felt more valuable than it did now, and in a weird way she was somehow content to just put up with the tired muscles and bruised limbs.

Ruby sighed, shaking her head once again, though more at the thought that all she wanted was Uncle Qrow's approval than anything else. She would never admit that to him.

 _He's still an asshole, though._

"I'd like to do something different today, if that's all right with you." her uncle started, but avoided locking eyes with her as he always did. Like he was ashamed at her very existence.

"It's fine." she quickly responded. It was unorthodox for them; their training sessions usually were pretty routine, but it didn't really matter to Ruby.

"I'd like to talk - about that girl, Priscilla I think her name was."

"Ah, seriously?" Ruby drawled with a disbelieving expression. _This is what he wanted to waste their training session on?_ "She's just some girl from school."

"She's a third year, Ruby. The teacher's told me what happened."

"Then why are you talking to me about it?" the girl said plainly, but that only earned a quirked eyebrow from Uncle Qrow.

"Because you can't go around picking fights with upper classman, or anyone actually!" While that normally would have been true, Ruby was not at fault here. It was only a fitting reprisal what she did.

"She started it." she summed it up.

"Really?" Qrow asked, clearly not buying it. "That's not what everyone else is saying."

"Well, everyone else is wrong." Perhaps it was beating around the bush, but Ruby did not really care to have a conversation about this right now. It was over and done, and she received detention for it anyway so she couldn't see why he would need to interrogate her any more.

"How?" he questioned.

"Because they don't know anything."

"Ruby." Uncle Qrow drew in a breath and let it out slowly, and it did not take a hard guess to see that he was growing impatient. "I- I can't know what you mean unless you talk to me."

"She insulted Yang." Ruby admitted, and to the only person who would be able to understand. She didn't even bother with the teachers at Signal, because they would have just brushed it off. They didn't know what Ruby had been through, yet they still had the nerve to snoop around her life, the idiots.

"That's all?" he had the audacity to say.

"What do you mean, 'That's all'?" Ruby made wild gesticulations to emphasize her point, and she took back what she originally thought about Uncle Qrow being the only one who could truly understand. No one understood her. "If I didn't know better I would have sworn I was speaking to a stranger."

"Hmm, I stand by what I said. You can't go beating up people just because they threw some insult at your sister." _Yes, you can!_ Heartless snobs like Priscilla deserve to be taught a lesson either way. And what a lesson it was! Getting schooled by someone with two years less of experience must have been so demoralizing. She could only imagine.

But of course Ruby wasn't stupid enough to just assault a "innocent" schoolgirl, so she merely challenged her to a less than friendly practice match. There wasn't anything there to break the rules, was there? "I didn't beat her up. I just challenged her to a spar and won."

"Brutally, I heard. I also heard that the staff had to drag you off her." Ruby winced briefly, but shoved it to the side before Uncle Qrow could notice.

"Was it that bad? I can't remember." She did know it was that bad, but she did not feel remorse for "accidentally" shooting Prissy even after the match was already over, nor for the follow up black eye.

"Ruby..." Uncle Qrow sighed. "Look, you can't keep doing this. You need to move on."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Ruby did though. She most certainly did, and yet she claimed she didn't, because this wasn't a topic she was comfortable broaching at this time.

Another sigh from Uncle Qrow, this one full of concern but fatigue. "I talking about your family."

"My family?" Ruby said exaggeratedly, one hand placed over her chest, to emphasize her point. "They're your family too. Even if they're not all blood."

"But I've let go," he whispered in his raspy voice, one hand rubbing his mouth, "you haven't."

"But I have, Uncle Qrow." Ruby argued.

"Have you, though? Don't you remember at first? How you used to lock yourself in your room for days on end; you didn't eat, you didn't drink. You just laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling all day. You- you ended up in a hospital, don't you remember?" His voiced crackled at the end, like he was remorseful for what happened, like he felt bad for talking about it.

"That's my point, though. Look at me now." Ruby said and then pointed to herself. "I'm in combat prep school, I've got the highest grade of my class, and here I am training with you. I'm great."

"There's no difference between now and then. You say you've moved on, but you haven't." Uncle Qrow insisted adamantly, "You have no friends, you're obsessed with training and weapons, you have no social life. I see you visit their graves every month."

Wait, what!? What what kind of reason was that? What he said was not a lie, and even sometimes Ruby visited their tombstones more often than that, if she had something she wanted to talk about.

"Of course I do! They're my family! My parents! My sister. And what about you? I haven't seen you visit their graves ever, like ever!" It wasn't something she never really even realized until right this moment, but when she thought back she couldn't remember a time when he sneaked off by himself to anywhere but the local taverns, and he most certainly never went with Ruby.

"No, I never have." he admitted.

Ruby rapidly found herself growing cross with her uncle, as well as slightly perplexed. Why had he never gone to lay flowers at the mountaintop? Never had he even seen the epitaph strewn across his best friends grave, or his niece's. "I don't know where you get off telling me about moving on, because I think you've moved on too quickly! You were best friends; what about your niece! They were like family to you, how could you just move on like that!?" Ruby found it logical to snap her fingers towards the end, just to make it extremely clear.

"Because that's what they would have wanted. Do you think they would have you spend the rest of your life closed off from the rest of the world?" her uncle accused.

"I- I'm not-" Ruby tried to defend, to deny, but as much as she believed Uncle Qrow was quite wrong in what he said, she couldn't fool herself into thinking she was the most cheerful person to be around. But she was okay with that. She enjoyed herself at times, and it didn't seem like anyone else really cared to be her friend either way, so...

Uncle Qrow cut her off though, "Yes, you are. It's been seven years, Ruby. Maybe you've gotten better since, but I've seen you there. You spend hours crying over their graves. You haven't let go."

"Well, maybe I just don't want to move on." Ruby paused for a second. "Actually, I know I don't. I never want to forget about them. My best memories are with them."

"But they don't have to be." he continued to fight back. "You're still alive, Ruby. You have the chance to make more."

"But I-" she stuttered.

"I know that's what Yang would have wanted." Anger resurfaced in Ruby, bubbling on the brim of her lid. That was highly inappropriate at that time. It had always been a sensitive topic for her, but to use her as- as some sort of guilt trip reason to inspire Ruby into opening up? That was a low blow.

"Don't speak her name." she growled, silver eyes narrowing into slits and lips curling defiantly.

"Why? She's dead Ruby." It was kind of him to remind her at least, that her big sis was dead and had been for seven years. That- that cut deep.

"I know that! You think I don't!? She was my sister. She was the one who cared for me, when you and Father were no where to be found, too busy drinking your lives away." she averted her gaze as she finished accusingly, though she wasn't really averting anything, because Uncle Qrow never really looked her in the eyes as it was, even though her looked at her.

"That she did. She deserved better than this." Her ire perhaps mellowed a level, if only to make room for confusion.

"Then why did you let her die!?" The thirteen year old yelled, and her uncle's eyes widened ever so slightly, like he was surprised, but something else told Ruby that he sort of expected it. "Oh, don't think I didn't know. I know you were with her in the forest when you left."

"I left to protect you! Would you rather I had let you be the one to die?" That was hurtful, but it calmed Ruby down, but it wasn't a valid point. Ruby knew the story, what had really transpired. But why would Uncle Qrow run to save her? What would have came over him to choose Ruby over Yang!?

"I- I'm not saying that. It's just- it's unfair to her, you know? Why would you leave her, even to protect me!? She's your own blood!"

"I did what I had to do."

"That doesn't even make sense..." she whispered.

"It doesn't have to." Uncle Qrow added; if she wasn't already confused then she was for sure now. "I know you'll never truly let go, just- just try and live a little, okay? Yang made the ultimate sacrifice so you could live. Don't waste that."

Uncle Qrow flipped around, and walked away, back into the building.

"It's not like she had a choice, did she!? You chose for her! She didn't want to die!" Ruby yelled to nothing but a departing back, and it was obvious that he had no intention of responding or returning, yet she did so anyway.

Ruby had always thought that Uncle Qrow understood what she was living with, even if he didn't fully experience the same, but she now knew that even that was wrong.

There was no one - nor would there ever be - that could know what she was going through.

* * *

 **Don't forget to read and review! Also, check out my new story.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, as you might have seen from my other fic, writing has been slow lately. Back to school and all that stuff has really been bogging down my progress. Either way, I'm writing when I can, and I hope you enjoy. Beacon is coming up next chapter. Finally...**

 **Here we go...**

* * *

Life is like a box of chocolates.

Even to Ruby Rose - the unlucky one - the common saying applied. Though in quite a different way than to most.

When Ruby would open a box of chocolates, she wouldn't wonder what flavor she was going to get - because she already knew. She already knew what she was going to get before she even took a bite.

The contents of the chocolate varied, but in essence they were always the same as well. Something dark and gooey that she'd end up regretting but eating anyway. Whether it be caramel or rasberry or one of the other endless possibilities mixed with more limitless options they were all going to have one thing in common.

Life was almost entirely analogous - at least in a nutshell.

When Ruby would run into a crossroad for anything in her life, she wouldn't waste her time worrying about whether she should choose one or the other; because fate already planned everything out for her - all paths were the same - just like the chocolates.

No matter how hard she tried to tip the odds in her favor, life never left her even the smallest remnant of sugar. Only bitterness and darkness and sorrow.

Life wasn't fair - Ruby knew that.

Perhaps it was just a random drop of the ping-pong ball, but Lady Luck always seemed to have destined her to fail - no matter what. She'd pondered it before, tried to figure out why it would have such a bias against her, but nothing ever came from thoughts like those.

 _Fate will always win, for better or worse._

For her it was worse, definitely; she'd experienced it, over and over again. Fate would keep on kicking her until she had no strength to get back up. It was practically a proven fact at this point - that she was destined for nothing but pain and sadness.

Something could be done once, and be considered a fluke; twice, luck; three times even; and something could be passed off as a coincidence. But when something happens as many times as Ruby's aching heart...

Which is why those words were so suprising. Against all odds - Fate smiled upon her.

A shortcut.

It was so utterly shocking that Ruby was still trying to wrap her head around it. In a world that seemed to have destined her to suffer, the offer was way beyond the normal world's balance. What had changed?

A sigh escaped Ruby - one full of stress induced exhaustion - as she leaned her elbow against the countertops, pointlessly mulling over Ozpin's invitation as she listened to the music playing. She wasn't a fan, but with it blaring it was hard to think of anything else without at least one ear following the lyrics. Something about being "crazy in love" or whatever, but like she said not really her style.

"Bartender!" Ruby called to the thin twenty-something, who looked like this was just some sort of part time job, judging by his age and interest in doing an even halfway decent job. She'd been sitting here for five minutes and he hadn't so much as even started to approach her to ask for her order.

He stumbled over to her seat over the counter, not saying anything, so Ruby went ahead,

"I'll have a Strawberry Sunrise." she told him after glancing shortly at the menu, slipping him some lien; which earned a raised eyebrow, but he left to go make the drink anyway.

 _This is the worst tavern I've ever seen._ Which perhaps wasn't saying much, because this was the only bar she'd been in ever, but really, couldn't the bartender at least _look_ like he wasn't about to drop dead from standing behind a counter all day.

"I really don't see why Uncle Qrow goes to this place, wow." Maybe the drinks were better than the service, who knew? Then again, Ruby wasn't exactly a alcohol coonossieur, but with a name like Strawberry Sunrise it had to be pretty fruity, right? Less alcohol content altogether as well, she made sure, because the last thing she wanted was for Uncle Qrow to be the one carrying her home drunk.

She wasn't actually old enough to drink yet; she still had a year to go, but she'd figured with a hood she could pass as slightly older than she actually was. Perhaps it was mild intrigue to see what Uncle Qrow loved so much about the stuff, but she knew that he didn't drink it because it tasted good.

She swiveled back and forth in her seat a couple times, constantly glancing towards the door to see if her uncle was there, but he hadn't emerged yet.

The soon to be huntress in-training figured she'd wait ten more minutes or something; it wasn't unusual for Uncle Qrow to be late, in fact, it was practically his calling card.

The clock. It read 8:30. PM it was, and it sure looked the part as the booths and the bar were starting to fill up. Though to Ruby's left and right there were empty spaces, even though there were plenty of people past that. _I guess people just don't want to sit next to me._

That was most certainly welcomed by her, because if she was being honest, she didn't really want to sit next to them either. Though when she wondered why regardless, she figured it was because no one wanted to sit next to a small hooded figure, both because of her mysteriousness and petiteness.

"Here you go." the disengaged man offered. _You've found your voice._ she wanted to mock, but decided not to.

After he walked away, Ruby picked up the glass, raising it high,

"Cheers, Ruby." She sighed. "We got into Beacon."

The underage drinker took a gulp. And then promptly began a coughing spree.

"This is Oolong Tea!" she called out, but that only earned wary looks and not a new drink.

 _Whatever,_ she thought, _I guess he figured I wasn't old enough. The hood might give people the wrong idea too..._ Ruby supposed the tea wasn't bad, a bit bitter indeed, but oddly soothing as well.

With nothing better to do she sat there sipping her new beverage, and yet no matter how many times she glanced towards the door he wasn't there. It wasn't until Ruby saw the bartender and someone else from the back of the pub chatting, the newcomer handing him an envelope and pointing to the hooded figure with her head held low that she realized what was transpiring.

"This is for you."

A white envelope slid into her view, which she then picked up, holding it with both hands and staring at it for a long few seconds. It was sealed closed. _What could it be?_ she thought, but in the back of her mind she was suspecting what it was.

With a twirl of her hand she flipped it around. There was some writing scrawled on the front. It read,

 _Miss Rose_

Miss Rose closed her eyes and turned the item on its back, feeling the crease with her finger and slipping it open. A sigh. The folded piece of paper easily slid out, and Ruby opened it and began to read,

 _Ruby,_

 _Sorry for standing you up tonight. It's okay if you're furious at me. That's your choice._

 _Congrats on getting into Beacon by the way. I heard from Oz about it. Also about what you did to that poor guy. Heh, you're just like your mother. Can't keep out of trouble..._

 _Sure brings back memories... Remember that time when you and your sister went to the arcade in Vale? You guys begged to go there for the longest time until I finally had to take you. Heh, and then once you got there you blew all your allowance before you even played one game. I sure as hell didn't give you any. Didn't talk to me for weeks, brats..._

 _Eh, it was a long time ago... You probably don't even remember._

 _I was there the other day, though, you know. That same arcade. Was in Vale for an errand and a drink when I saw it and so I decided to take a look inside. It's changed for sure. I mean, it's been almost ten years so it's not a surpise._

 _It reminded me of something very important, though. If you will, please read on._

 _Open up. I know now that you'll never truly put your past behind you, but don't let it drag you down, don't let it stop you from experiencing what I know your heart wants. Grief is a garden of compassion. Keep your heart open-_

"This is a waste of time." Ruby screamed to herself, and it took an extreme level of self control to resist tearing the letter to shreds. It was unexplainable why she didn't, and why she kept her silver orbs locked onto each letter, each meaning, each... damnable way that he told her how to live her life.

She continued unimpeded,

 _-through everything, and the pain can become your guide in your quest for peace._

 _I don't know, maybe I've drank too much while writing this, but if you've made it this far then keep going. Open your eyes, look within. Are you satisfied with the life you're living?_

 _Anyway, that's enough freshman year psych bull, just stay safe and stay safe._

 _Your..._

 _Uncle Qrow_

 _P.S._

 _If you haven't already check inside the envelope. It's the only one that not a pile of ash..._

Ruby's hands trembled anxiously, and the tension was so high it could be cut with a knife. Just a ounce of pressure on the trigger and this damned letter would be rended in half. But instead she just slammed it on the counter, which probably earned even more glances but she didn't care.

Though the teenage girl had already decided to not pay heed to anything her uncle exhorted, she quickly found her hand digging into the envelope once again, stroking the remaining contents. After a short pause she extracted it, and though she tried to prevent it she couldn't.

Ruby cried. No, this was not real. This couldn't be real. This- this photo, of her... and Summer, and Taiyang, and Yang. They were dead, Ruby was alive. This was wrong. So wrong.

And expeditiously she blacked out their faces.

Crying in a bar, that must have been a common sight. So even when Ruby poured her heart out over a dusty old photo given to her by a dusty old crow, no one batted and eye.

 _Like I care..._

* * *

The mountainous pass she traversed was sheer and bleak, cut across a jagged cliff-face and surrounded by cloying mist. Her feet hit the uneven terrain unsteadily, though Yang compensated gracefully, keeping on her toes as she ran the course with practiced ease. She sped forward at an alarmingly but efficient pace, deftly evading the parts where the ice would give way to a feather and clutching the flimsy folder close under her arm.

A chute of snow and debris trundled down the open edge as the young woman leapt over a gaping crevice; the sequence would - and should - have concluded in a elegant landing, if not for the untimely fall of more of the dreaded substance on her cloak. Her feet were swept clean off the ice, not even the traction of her extremely practical boots could prevent her impending fall on her ass. Why did Cinder have to choose a mountain on the snowiest side of Remnant of all places!?

"Damn it, Cinder." she cursed, shaking her head and rubbing the victimized of Cinder's inconspicuous but inconvienent choice of a hideout. Nothing hurt, her aura could ensure that much at least.

Yang pushed herself back to her feet irrespective, impatiently tugging at the cumbersome fabric around her neck. It came loose eventually, and she held one corner in each hand in front of her frame.

It was a coral colored cloak - a good portion of it, at least - dirtied and bloodied from repeated use and combat. The ends looked like they could have been chewed off by an animal or something (didn't one of those Schnee officials have a guard dog?), frayed and charred from times when Yang got too careless...

Nonetheless, the mission was a success. She patted the familiar material of the folders with pride; it was intel, of relative importance, she gathered, as the length it took to get was a good minute or two longer than usual. Yang wasn't certain of what it was for; Cinder only gave her bits and pieces, enough for her to find what she needed but not enough to grasp the purpose or intent. That was just how it worked.

Yang let the cloak drift off in the wind - she was long overdue for a new one anyway - pressing on towards her destination. She couldn't afford to be late; Cinder was cold enough when she was on time.

Around a corner Yang espied a small building built out of metal plating attached to the rock face of the mountain, internally grinning at her own handiwork with a hammer and few nails. Silver flashed through a thin slit in the structure; it dissapeared, then a slim man slipped through the door on the side, darting in the opposite direction of Yang and into the wilderness. Curious, but not enough to chase after Mercury, she didn't alter her course, ducking under the rusted window and swinging herself inside.

Instantly, an arc of flame shot toward her, its warmth licking her throat as Yang tuck and rolled to the side, avoiding the brunt of the blast. There was a reason this place was made out of metal, not wood. She touched the burn on her throat with a smile, excitement brimming under the surface. Her face was kept as impassive as possible as she turned around, documents warm but untouched under her arm. Luckily her reports were both sealed and fire-proof - she learned from experience. "Nice to see you, too, boss."

The lady inside ignored her in favor of flipping through a stack of documents. Long, ashen black hair flowed elegantly down her back, a dark brand etched into her alabaster skin. As youthful looking and delicate as always, though Yang knew she was neither inexperienced nor fragile.

"Status?" It was cold; Yang's heart sunk. It had been a month since they'd last seen each other, and...

"Success, obviously," she said, trying to stay cheerful and optimistic; Cinder was usually frank and indifferent, though the frost had recently been more palpable - it shouldn't have stung, but it did. "They didn't stand a chance - just a few embers had 'em on their knees."

Normally, this is where Cinder would snap at her, descending brutally upon Yang's overconfidence - the opening was deliberate - but no recriminations or flames of lesson came. Cinder hardly seemed to acknowledge anything past her first word.

"And your report?"

Yang wanted to sass her, brag more about her success (an interrogation; Cinder used to be so proud of that), but she had taken the fun out of everything. A sigh escaped her instead. "I got names, a few faces. The layout - some security stuff. They didn't know much more than that."

Cinder held her hand out; Yang drew forth the package, slowly passing it the woman who thought acknowledgement was outdated. She idly cut open the seal, sliding out the plethora of papers, many crumpled or creased because Yang was in a rush. Yang stood there patiently as she skimmed through them, waiting for Cinder to demean her for messily scrawled writing and notes - to scold her for any fleeting descriptions, for cuts too shallow or for not pressing her hostage harder, harsher, but she spoke nary a word, reading silently.

Part of it dissapointed her, because if not a shower of praise or a flurry of scoldings then what?

Yang fidgeted in place as Cinder continued to read, and then she moved to store the files away, in a exquisitely organized cabinet on the other side of the spectrum of tidiness. Even when Yang started whistling while Cinder sorted through her library - something intentional and impolite - no words were spoken. This was their interaction for an entire year: brisk, impersonal. Yang broke.

"Are you still mad at me for that?"

The already pale lighting filtering through the cracks in the metal seemed to dim further after her words were uttered. Cinder froze, hands still deep in the filing cabinet, and the brand etched between her shoulders was where Yang's eyes fell. The partial cause, or rather, the partial result of Cinder's lingering and subtle hostility.

"You make me sound like some petty child," Cinder resumed shuffling around papers as her sibyllant voice emanated, but the added _edge_ in it made the hairs on Yang's neck stand up. "Is that how you see it, my pet? See this? As some little game for you to pass your time with?"

"No, no-" Yang backed up, even though Cinder's back was _still_ turned, and Yang's eyes _still_ locked onto the source of untold power, among other things. The intense silence had been grating, but this... Yang had thought she'd known her angry, but didn't realize... "I just... It's been a year, and I've worked my best-"

"You could _work your best_ a thousand years but it will never make up for your failure." Cinder immediately cut her off, prompting Yang to wince. "Do you think I went through the effort of training you for my amusement? For some - game? Out of the kindness of my heart?"

It hurt, worse than any bruise or cut could. Was this what their relationship had be reduced to? Certainly... but how long would it sustain? Cinder couldn't - wouldn't - keep it up forever. Would she? Yang had no answer to that question...

Nor did she for any of the rhetorical ones.

"No, you know better than that..." Cinder reverted to an upright position with a new black folder held in one hand, one heel on the edge of the sliding drawer, slowly pushing it in causing that ear piercing sound like a nail on chalk. And then she looked towards her. "Don't forget your purpose here."

A glare that could stop a heart if it wanted to stared dead straight into Yang's red orbs, but she didn't back down. A lesser mortal would have - even she would have, under normal circumstances - but anger boiled inside Yang, just brimming at the surface, threatening to blow at the slightest provocation, and that gave her courage. The faux kind.

"My purpose? What about our deal?" She employed Ember Celica; it might have been useless, suicidal... She wasn't going to try anything, nor did she ever intend to, but it was instinctual.

"Our _deal_?" CInder seemed amused, as if she were dealing with a petulant child. Yang bristled.

"You said you'd tell me everything. You swore that if I - if I-"

"Put those claws away; it's embarrassing," she chided, but with a dangerous edge. Yang shrunk back, retracting her weapons. "I said no such thing. Even if I had, you saw her yourself - she's fine."

Yang's heart stopped in her chest. That was-How did she know that?

cinderalwaysknewcinderalwaysknewcinderalways

"Besides, what would knowing have done for you?" Cinder asked. "Would that have made your father's weakness any less devestating? No. It would have only distracted you - and it did so spectacularly."

"But-" Yang looked away.

"But nothing." This is where threats would normally enter, but Yang was past the point of needing them. There were threats in every heartbeat, every breath - threats of varying degrees that she didn't even want to contemplate. "Don't forget your purpose. I could have burned you alive for your desertion, but instead I kept you here, in hopes you might be useful for something."

Yang found solace in that fact, at least, as she looked back into the eyes of a snake. "And I've found a way you can be, so get it together." The black package was flung towards her, lightning fast, and it would have broken Yang's ribs had she not caught them instinctively with one hand. "I have a mission for you."

Yang opened it. An official-looking paper with a name and a face - her face - with a card, a seal... Pictures of forests, and teenagers in colorful clothing, and tall spires... familiar, tall spires. _The hell!?_ She shut her eyes, praying that this wasn't what it looked like. She opened them after a few moments, drifting further down. "By the end of the week, you will be Yasmine Zhang, graduate of Haven Academy. An aspiring Huntress attending Beacon this year."

 _What?_ She never had to pretend to be anyone before - not so officially, anyway. Not _beyond 'Hey, Mercury, I'll pretend to be that security guard'_ or Emerald yelling, _'Yang, you're a fellow torture victim. Let me pretty up your face so it's believable'_ sort of nonesense. She read further just to be sure, and then once she read it all, she blinked a few times for confirmation.

Confirmation that Hell officially froze over.

"You're sending me away?"

"I thought you wanted to leave," Cinder toyed, dangerously, but still close to how they used to interact: teasing interwoven with threat and malice. It affected Yang but not in the way Cinder was probably expecting it to. "Now get ready. All you need to know is in those folders. Initiation is in three weeks."

"Wait. These are official papers - and that ID - they must have cost-" Their contact in Haven academy... He was reliable, but Yang had done the intel work there initially, and that man was difficult to bribe. Slimey and smart enough not to cross them outright, but pricey. Another piece of the puzzle slotted into place. "How important is this mission?"

"Important enough to get you eviserated if you fail."

Yang took a big gulp. She already had one strike. If she failed this... two. Somehow Cinder didn't seem willing to count to three. "But - espionage? Cinder, you know I'm crap at that... seduction and quiet stuff. Maybe Emerald-"

"Stop whining. Under different circumstances, I would do it myself - such a task requires finesse, I am aware. But our options are limited. They know my face."

"But not... mine." Okay. That was understandable. Yang was her right-hand gal, most reliable and steadfast... pet. "But for how - how long? What would I _do_?"

She knew better than to ask why. After so long, she knew better - part of Yang didn't actually want to know, why someone of Cinder's caliber would be interested in a school for young kids. No, Yang didn't want to know. That was how most of these things went. Attack this, torture this - _"Don't think of why. Just do it. If you don't, we'll kidnap your sister and-"_

"Even I am not privy to that information. Six months to a year at least, I suppose."

 _Six months?!_

"You're only job is to sit and wait for instructions - don't attract attention. Even you can do that much. Am I wrong?"

"N-no, but I've never-" _-been on a mission that long. Been away from you that long. Been around other people. Had to communicate to anyone. Had to go without explosive outlets for..._

"Then do not fail me." A look of despair flittered across Yang's face, and knowing Cinder's skill at detecting such subtleties, it was unlikely that she didn't notice. It was clear that she did, as she added, "If this goes smoothly, then perhaps I'll take you out of this - menial work. You've been lounging around here long enough."

Yang immediately brightened. "If I do this, you'll forgive me?"

"I'll pardon your insubordination." Cinder corrected. Amber eyes turned that shade and she turned her head away; her tone turned slightly huskier, emotion-rich. "That is all that matters. The forgiveness you seek is inconsequential, Yang."

It was weak, even to Yang; Cinder used her real name. She knew it, but it wasn't something that could be helped. Cinder's disappointment was like scalding water...

Yang had run away because she felt betrayed, and abandoned, and while both of those were true, Cinder had taken the fall for her mistake - and though she said nothing, she knew that Salem did not take failure lightly. The guilt tore at her gut. "Maybe. But will you?"

Cinder laughed at that. Was it mocking, pitying? She wasn't sure. But she honestly didn't give a damn...

"If you impress me... Perhaps."

 _Yes!_ And that was all that mattered.

"Then just leave it to me, boss." Yang reassured in her usual peppy self, leaving any time that Cinder might use to reconsider in the dust as she swept up the assignment sheet and leapt onto the windowsill.

"One more thing before you leave... When I was reading your report, there wasn't mention of where you disposed of the bodies."

Yang froze. Cinder was like heat; warmth and soothing at first, then searing and burning until it felt ice cold and numb. "Err... No, there wasn't. I - I forgot."

"Forgot to what, hmm? Dispose of the bodies, or detail where your disposed of them?" Cinder paused, and Yang sweat-dropped. "Or... perhaps... to create bodies to be disposed of at all?"

"You know what? I think I should go get started on this Beacon thingy-" Yang moved to jump out the window, but she choked as Cinder grabbed her effortlessly by the collar, flinging her back into the dark, condemning room.

 _Oh, shit._ Of all the explanations she'd tried, only the ones where Yang was cool and logical seemed to make any headway and were the least painful. "I hid my face, and my voice isn't all that distinctive, and there was little time... It was morning, you know, people and all; it was quickest just to leave, and-"

"Excuses, excuses." Cinder gestured something, and her voice was as accusing as ever. Yang knew that Cinder would have been upset, and even though her _excuses_ were true, they weren't the real reason. The real reason was something unknown to her beloved master. "Tell me, what do you think the Schnee corporation is going to do, when they hear that someone interrogated their former security?"

"I - I knocked them out, and used the drugs, and - and threatened their families-" she hedged.

"Is that a guarantee you're giving me, my pet?" Once again Cinder countered in a question. It always seemed to be more effective on Yang, and she knew that. And more often than not Yang didn't have an answer to those questions...

"Well, n-no..." Not any that didn't contain some form of stuttering, anyway.

"Now they'll be on edge, which makes our job all the more difficult."

"I'm sorry." Yang would have been a fool to not expect any repercussions; she braced herself for a blow that was probably more commonplace than it should have been.

"It's all right," she assured, suddenly mild as milk. It was a stark contrast to not a moment ago, and Yang instantly knew something was up. "It's not your fault, after all. The mistakes of the student are the failings of the teacher, are they not?"

Dread.

"I have been neglecting you, haven't I?" A fire lit in her hands; Yang cringed at Cinder's tone and her entire body tensed instinctively at the motion. It was coming, and it was worse than usual. "Has my pet missed my warmth these long, cold nights?"

"You can be so gross sometimes." Yang laughed nervously, attempting to stall until Cinder... forgot? Maybe not, but maybe just long enough... She edged back towards the window. _Almost there..._

"Now, it's been a while since we've had proper fun, hmm?"

 _Fuck my life..._

* * *

 **Whew, this last scene was fun to write. Anyway, Beacon starts next chapter. Expect Weiss and Blake to mix it up. Enough said.**

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